Short Stories From Prompts

Smog

White clouds were the first thing I saw when I left the hospital after I was born. Mama always told me that they were always white before I came along.

As I got older, I grew to enjoy the color pink. Around that time, the clouds started to get a slightly darker, pinky tone. I asked Mama if it changed because I liked pink and she said that it was because of something that only grown ups would understand.

The day I met Alexander, the clouds were a color that looked like the color crayon called "Orchid." I had heard in science that morning that it was because of pollution. Alexander was really smart. He told me that he heard his also smart dad talking about it that day too.

On my first date with Alexander, the clouds were getting less light and fluffy and more like what came from the smokestacks at the paper mill. We ate inside that day.

On the day he proposed, the clouds were getting bluer. We were at our favorite restaurant, the one with the big window above us. As I cried "Yes!" and started to sob with happiness, I looked up and saw the darkest clouds I had ever seen through my tears.

On our wedding day, the skies were not very blue, rather a gray.

On the day they told me about the cancer, I heard the nurses talking about how foggy and bad smelling it was outside.

On the first day of chemo, I drove myself to the hospital for the last time that I would ever drive. I could barely see, because it was raining, but the rain seemed...darker.

On the last day, I asked my favorite nurse to take me outside. She brought me to the rooftop lounge. I laid out on a chair and looked up for a few minutes. The last thing I smelled was the disgusting odor of pollution. The last thing I felt was my nurse holding me, and the last thing I heard was her crying and saying I could let go if I wanted to. And the last thing I saw was a sky of purple.