She lay on the cool green grass, feeling the leftover morning dew soak into her back. She didn’t care; it was a beautiful spring day, she could taste summer on the air, and the clouds above her whisked across the sky like they were late for a meeting. She wondered, absently, what the clouds might feel like, what they might taste like. Would they be like this spring morning, cool and refreshing? Or maybe they were like cotton candy, spun sugar that danced across the sky.
She giggled at the thought. She knew the clouds were just water gathering high above them before showering down on her little planet. But still, what if… She reached her hand up, tracing the puffy white clouds. What if, she thought, we could just reach up, into the sky, and pull down the clouds ourselves? Would they hold their form, and stay clean and bright and airy, or would they dissolve into droplets on the way down?
She felt something tickle her raised hand, and she pulled it back with a squeak. What was that? She couldn’t see anything above her, no drifting leaves or darting dragonflies. She reached back up, slowly, and felt a soft something bump against her palm. Her breath hitched in her throat. Could it be…
She slowly moved her fingers, feeling the shape, the texture, of whatever bumped into her hand. It almost seemed to move closer to her, to the gentle exploration of her fingers. She squinted in the bright sunlight, and saw something translucent wrapped around her hand. She inched her arm down, bringing the soft thing closer. Its color intensified, the light fluff coalescing into shining white.
She held the cloud above her face, and watched as her breath blew little wisps off the edges. It reminded her of the stuffing her grandfather had used to make little toys, but so much more delicate. The cloud was chill against her fingers, and it sent a chill down her arm. She hesitated, still staring in awe at the little miracle in her hands. She was actually holding a cloud! Who else could say that?
Very slowly, she brought the cloud even closer, and stuck out her tongue. She felt it melt against her tongue, and to her delight it tasted like the clearest, purest spring water she could imagine. It wasn’t the bright cotton candy flavor she had dreamed about, but it was so much better.
A tendril broke apart from the rest, and whispered across her cheek, in the softest of caresses. She felt such beauty, such purity and light in that touch, that her eyes welled with tears. The cloud gave a little wiggle, making her laugh. Then, ever so gently, the cloud began to pull away, back towards the sky. It seemed to be saying to her, Goodbye, dear friend. I must return home. She opened her hand, and watched as the little cloud climbed higher and higher, racing to catch up with its family.
She stayed there, watching the clouds chase each other across the sky, the sun dip lower, until her new friends were no longer white, but purple, pink, orange and blue. And as darkness truly fell, she caught the shimmer of stars behind the shadowy clouds.
What a strange, wonderful day, she thought. I got to taste a cloud, and it was nothing like cotton candy.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020