cloudless sky .

When the sky is cloudless, you’ll hear me cry.

When the sky is crying, you’ll see me shine.

 

My mother’s old tape deck belts out the jerky rhythm of her ancient obsessions. I groan, and stuff my head under my pillow. Not today.

Slept too late last night. Don’t remember when, because I was probably too drunk to notice the clock. My head feels like something is trying to explode out of it, kind of like that movie, Alien vs. Predator. I want to go to the kitchen for an apple, but something tells me getting up right now isn’t a good idea. Groaning, I toss in my bed, trying to find comfort and silence in one position. Unfortunately it only lasts until I start suffocating under my many sheets, and I’m forced to come up for air. I sigh. There’s no use in trying to stay in bed today. Might as well get up and find something to eat. Hopefully I don’t smell that bad.

The mirror tells me my messy black hair is going to be unmanageable today, so I just rinse my hands and attempt to flatten the bangs. I look like a ghost due to lack of exposure to the sun, and there’s half a pimple on my right cheek. But that’s okay; I’m not seeing anyone important today anyway. I brush my teeth, get dressed, and run.

Not that there’s anywhere to run to, since our house is in the middle of a grassy field that no one can be bothered to manage. When I have nothing to do I just stare at the sky. When it’s cloudless, it’s boring. When it’s raining I go inside. But on those perfect days when there are both white clouds and blue sky, I lay in the grass for hours on end, staring, searching and wondering what they could be.

I settle myself on a grassy patch that will probably stain my white cardigan, and look up. The wind blows my dress up, but no one will see, so I don’t try to pull it down.

I scan the sky for something interesting; something that will tell me a story. There’s a patch of white in the middle that looks like a falcon, or the batman symbol. In my mind I draw the lines of the wings and the head and the tail; it looks so regal, so certain. It’s so unlike me. I imagine it would stand at the top of a building, looking down on everyone, casting its authority. There’s no way I could ever be like that.

Next to it are some cloud fragments that outline parts of the sky, making it almost puppy dog shaped. It looks at me with such deploring eyes, begging so happily it almost makes me smile. I would give it whatever it wants, if it were mine. I would even name it something perfect, not like those stupid dogs called Lucky or Fluffy. But it’s not like me either; I never get what I want. My innocent and pleading expressions just make me look confused, or even sad, so that people can’t understand if I want something or if I’m just sulking. I shift my focus.

Further down is a fish. I hate fish. They taste bad and they look ugly, and there’s absolutely nothing likable about a fish. They’re scaly and floppy and have no eyelids. Thank god they’re nothing like me; I’d hate to be a fish. But it would be nice if I could swim, so I wouldn’t have to half drown and get saved every time people splash me in the creek. But still. So gross.

Around the fish, the isolated clouds start drifting. They move further and further to the west, and change shape as they run away from me. The falcon and the puppy become distorted, mutating into unrecognisable shapes in my eyes. And they too drift further and further away. The hot wind blows up my dress once again, and I sigh. Soon the sky will be cloudless, boring, plain. I don’t see any beauty in the cloudless sky; there’s nothing exciting about it. The shapes have all gone, the ideas flying away as if they were fleeting thoughts in the mind of a young child.

I slowly get up from my patch of grass and walk towards the house. My fingers brush up against the tallest of the shards, and I feel them swaying in the wind.

Before I reach home, I look up again.

There’s nothing in the sky.

A clean slate, for a new day.

I go inside.

When the sky is cloudless, you’ll hear me cry.

    • Garmon
    • August 11th, 2008

    dayum it looks fully pro

    • hotshot bald cop
    • August 30th, 2011

    Excellent thoughts

    • Grootiasist
    • September 21st, 2011

    I love it! Could perhaps be a tad more polished…

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