You stare at the place around you. Layer upon layer are clouds; looking into the distance, you identify hills made out of the thick white and fluffy material, and even what looks like a couple of houses tucked neatly behind a smoothly-bulging contour. Despite the place being made of air and little dewdrops (which you can feel tickling your suddenly-bare feet as you wander around), you can tell that this cloud-place is not hindered by its material at all. In fact, it seems to you that the little details of living are more accentuated when they are made out of dainty cloud.
You begin to move off towards the hill, it gloriously jutting out of the blue that not only covers your head but also the heads of the white clouds. You look down. Although you cannot hear your footsteps, you know that you are moving at a constant velocity on the soft, damp grass that remains in cloud-form. You cannot see under the ground; you presume there is nothing beyond the sky. It seems like this place has emerged from nowhere, just beyond that darkness from which you have just escaped. The contrast is profound; you cannot help but marvel for a minute.
As you bring your eyes on to the distance once again, you see a blip in the white perfection. A dark cloud, black-blue, and with jagged thunderstorm-lines protruding from its base, is slowly, but steadily- menacingly- making its way towards you. Silent shrieks fill your head, but you’re not the only one affected; the whole world seems to know of a problem.
Yet somewhere off in that distance, where the shapes of houses begin to shake and wobble out of fright, you hear music, possibly that of a stringed instrument or Lyre. An aria is being sung to it, the indistinguishable words wavering in and out of your mind.
If only the darkness weren’t between you and the music.
That mass of night that seems to be coming closer…