the clouds move slowly, as if they're pixels on a screen and they're in the era of wireless internet.
they drift along, lazily, sluggishly, crawling across the fabric of the cosmos.
in some places, the clouds move in peace, nothing but a bullfrog's croak filling the space between the dark blue cloak and the rough, dry earth.
in other places, they bound away from the loud beeps, the constant gossip overflowing from every crevice in every building, every dirty corner on every street.
and as these clouds crawl across the deep blue blanket, they tell stories.
stories of bustling mayhem at a favorite store, stories of finding love outside of a coffee shop.
stories of two elderly women seated in a field of flowers, pointing at the clouds themselves and trying to guess the identity of each one.
stories of two children playing in the sun, their t-shirts drenched in sweat and their grins more radiant than a supernova.
stories of people, just like you and me, given special meaning just because
someone,
something,
was there to witness you.
-
inspired by my new cover lol
-olive ☆〜（ゝ。∂）
YOU ARE READING
cadence
Short Story[small stories] ca•dence /kādns/ noun a sequence of notes or chords compromising the close of a musical phrase. the final cadences of the song swept a bittersweet taint through its waters.
