My Conversation With CloudsA Story by CrowleyA shorty for the Image Group, Image #3My Conversation With Clouds
I climbed to the top of lighthouse, stood perilously on the protective railing and shook my fist at the approaching storm. I shouted her name three times at the top of my voice. Once in frustration, once in painful longing and once just to hear myself scream. A passing cloud stopped for a moment and called me a ninny and encouraged me to jump.
“After all,” it breezed, “a man in your condition has no right being a man at all.” I sneered at the cloud and asked why he should know. He was, after all, a cloud and had no experience with matters of the heart. I spit to the jagged rocks below. “I have no control over my own path,” said the cloud, "much less the path of another cloud. To think that I do, would simply be rubbish.” The cloud puffed, blowing me off my balance. At first I resisted and then, figuring the cloud was right, I held out my arms and leapt from the railing. As I fell, the clouds parted and the suns rays shone strongly on the rocks below, creating the most beautiful haloed images and shadow. I started to cry. Just before I met my fate on the sharp and fragmented rocks below, the suns rays caught me and cradled me in their warmth, slowing my decent and placing me on a flat patch of stone, the water lapping at my feet in relief. I stared at the sun and thanked her profusely, “what might I do to repay my debt of gratitude?” The sun winked at me and said, “Quit being a ninny, and never, ever listen to a cloud." © 2010 CrowleyAuthor's Note
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Added on May 25, 2010Last Updated on June 10, 2010 AuthorCrowleyPhoenix, AZAboutLike to hang out with other writers and see what's what. Have met a lot of good people on this and other sites through the years. Decided to come back and do a little posting and reading. Hit me up i.. more..Writing
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