Tags
cherubs, clouds, fantasy, musings, ponderings, sharmishtha (trisha) basu, sharmishtha basu, short stories, short story, sky, stories, story, sun, thoughts, views, wind, writings.
She saw him from a distance. A sweet boy, hardly her age, sitting on a cloud and creating another one with a small straw; soon a fluffy white cloud formed and he blew it towards east. It sailed and piled up with clouds about to form a white mountain there; another one followed it, then another.
She could not resist herself, “Why are you blowing all the clouds in one direction? People there will never be able to see the sun!”
“They are my cloud, I will do whatever I want!” the boy said, and started to form another one.
Suddenly his mountain of cloud exploded and scattered all over the sky, creating a beautiful scene. White boats scattered in blue ocean- that’s how they looked.
“Wait you little mischief maker!” the boy dropped his straw and chased someone.
She could not see anyone at first sight; then she saw his glimpses as he maneuvered from one place to another to slip the chaser.
It was a girl, with a transparent body and eyes full of mischief.
Soon they disappeared in the distance.
She laughed sweetly and started to paint the clouds pink. It was time to wake up the sun.
Sharmishtha Basu
8.11.11
Nice cotton-candy imagination!