I remember when I was little, before all in my life changed, how much the sky had fascinated me. The deep blue sky that always made me think of the ocean in the horizon; an endless blue ocean. I remember being on the back of the bike as my sister peddled us to the beach and letting my imagination take me away. I imagined playing in that ocean, swimming around carelessly. Then a cloud would appear, fluffy and white and I would wake up from my imagination and wonder, are clouds really white?
Fast forward to when I moved to Canada; here the skyline wasn't as blue as back home and my imagination could not take me anywhere anymore. I saw endless white, sometimes gray, clouds and at that time, more than ever, I asked, are clouds really white?
Keep on moving until my 12th year when everything for me seemed to disappear. It was a cold, ocean blue horizon day, when God took my father away. There was not a single white or gray cloud in the sky, To make me question anything. I did not ask are clouds really white? Because there was nothing to ask, nothing to wonder about, just something bigger to occupy my thoughts.
Years passed to the me today, and sometimes on a really ocean blue horizon day I see a lone cloud in the sky and wonder to myself, are clouds really white?