Monsters in the Sky
They were the most magnificent clouds I had ever seen.
Like the foam of a breaking wave, they tumbled across the sultry summer sky.
They were like a splatter of white paint against a stretch of lurid blue,
and, at the same time, resembling enormous swollen tongues, unfurling from
the heavens, and never once stopping.
As I sat in the mottled grey backseat of the bus to Bronte, I watched those
clouds. And the more I watched, the more I found myself slipping. Slipping,
so simply and so effortlessly, like a wet bar of soap. Away from myself,
away from the bus, even slipping away from reality; and then I slipped, for
the very last time, out of this world and into another.
At that moment, I would have done anything, anything in the world, to sink
into, no, to immerse myself in those large, thick pillows that looked so
crisp, so soft. Anything at all, for those great lolloping clouds.
Anything for those monsters. Those monsters in the sky.
© Natasha Lau. 2007.
