Story of a Cloud

by Nick Yee

A wisp of cloud weaves white threads into the sapphire sky. He watches the land beneath drift by. He looks at the children running in the fields and envies the freedom they have. He has lost count of the days he has longed to run free, untethered by the Northern Wind. The smiles on the children's faces seem to taunt him with the freedom that he will never have. There are only so many shades of blue and white you can see before you feel you have seen them all.

But one day, he sees something he has never seen before. Within the cradle of a valley's arms, he catches a glimpse of something staggeringly beautiful - a vision so perfect that it seems to give meaning to all the drifting and yearning he has been through. But just as quickly as it came into existence, it disappears from his sight as the Northern Wind carries him away. He is overwhelmed by sensations he cannot name because he has never felt them before - a burning, a heaviness, and then an emptiness. He tries to forget what he has seen, but this only makes the drifting more unbearable.

And then, one day, he catches a glimpse of it again; this time within a grove of willows. The beauty of the vision fills him with clarity, as if he has suddenly become whole. But with a determined cruelty, the Northern Wind carries him away again. At first the wisp of cloud is calm, but then a heavy sadness spills and drowns him. He denies the loss of the vision, and weaves himself in and out of darkness and light. The thought that the vision is seen by anyone else sears every thread of his being. He blames the vision for bringing him this pain, and then blames himself for finding the vision. He plots ways to hurt the vision the way it has hurt him. And finally, his pride dismisses the beauty of the vision, leaving him with only loneliness as he continues drifting with a flickering sliver of hope.

He sees the vision now and again. The appearance of the vision seems to be the only thing that marks his drifting. And every time, he plummets into the same chain of feelings. Finally, the wisp of cloud feels that he cannot go on anymore. One day, he drifts over the very same valley where he first saw the vision, but the vision isn't there. He suddenly understands.

He unweaves himself from the skies, turning white threads into translucent tears. He is free from the Northern Wind. But more importantly, he is free from the vision because he finally realizes where it has been coming from all this time.