It rained heavily yesterday afternoon. I was jogging naked as usual, when the skies split open and vomited a voluminous amount of water upon me. The water droplets fell heavy and hard and my face and shoulders and private parts hurt. I stopped for a moment to decide whether to seek for shelter or to continue jogging. I didn't want to stop jogging just because it was raining. I was on a roll and I was about to achieve my daily target. But if I continued I would have risked bumping into a tree or falling down a drain because the downpour was so heavy, visibility of my surroundings was minimal at best.
As I stood in the rain, braving the pounding of the constant dropping of water upon me, a small cloud fell out from the skies and descended towards me. I would like to describe this particular cloud as being made out of billions of droplets of condensed water vapour but it was not at all like that. It was not a normal cloud at all, though who am I to say what a normal cloud looks like or not, because this particular cloud was really the first cloud I ever had the opportunity to meet and greet. But as I was saying, this cloud was different from what I would have thought a cloud would be like. It was instead made of wool, and when the cloud bumped into me accidentally, I could feel its cloudy fluffiness was not that of water vapour but that of high-grade rabbit wool from the far-off land of New Burrow.
"Oh, excuse me," said the cloud, not looking in my direction. "The rain is so thick, I can hardly see. I'm so wet with rain, the water has literally pulled the wool over my eyes."
It was true. I could see two flaps of wool partially covering what appeared to me as eye slits. "No problem," I answered.
The cloud stood shaking and shivering, and there was an embarrassing silence between us. To break this spell, I ventured a small question. "Tell me O cloud: what are you doing out in this ghastly rain?" I asked.
The cloud seemed shocked that I would ask such a question. "I could very well ask you the same thing," the cloud said, a little hurt.
Had I touched a sensitive issue? This intrigued me a little. "Well, I asked you first," I said.
The cloud harrumphed and it shivered and sprayed some water as it did so. "I do not expect you landmans, or whatever you call yourself, to understand. Today, noblest of days, is Cloud Parade Day, and all the clouds worth their vapour are out parading and showing their best cloud poses and stances for all the world to see."
The cloud straightened itself, as if to show it too could pose in a distinct way.
"Cloud Parade Day?" I asked. "Is that why it's raining so hard?"
"Heavens no! This awful rain must be the work of the dogs and the cats. They've always had a vendetta against us clouds. Anyway, I must be off. Tootles!" And with that, the rabbit wool cloud flew back up into the rain.
I stood there with my hand shielding my eyes from the rain trying to look up at the cloud flying away. I stood there and kept thinking. What was it like to wear rabbit wool while jogging in the rain?
two lines in, I figured out this was fiction. You don't jog! oh, and nice little story too.ReplyDelete
Thanks! But there is a secret I must confess. For the past sixteen years, I have joined the cult of the nudist joggers. Please do not be taken aback.ReplyDelete
Very good work, Ted! Whimsical. I like it :)ReplyDelete
Glad you do, Irene!ReplyDelete
What a mix of phrases! Wool over one's eyes, cats and dogs...I will not look at clouds the same way again, at least not for these next few hours. Nice one. Very out of the box - oops - that's another phrase. (ps: like the new masthead too)ReplyDelete
Thanks, Eliza. Although I have to admit that I really didn't plan them to be in there!ReplyDelete
very nice, ted. i like the cloud.ReplyDelete
What sensitive clouds! Hehe. A nice one. I am well aware of nudist joggers. I thought this was for real.ReplyDelete