The Cloud Seekers

who do you think the cloud seekers are?
i always find music goes with writing really well, so here's a link for you:
this piece helped with the writing of the story an tings.
i just love the word beatnik.

That day I was one of them, a cloud seeker.

We were making our way, single-file, through a field where the grass came up to our waists. I moved carefully, treading in the footsteps of the ones before, one hand drifting through the tall stems, face upturned, bathing in the warm evening sun. Scarlet birds swung and swam around us, and we grinned to ourselves knowing we would soon join them in their lazy dance. I could see ahead the narrow strip of pine forest, and beyond that our target, the great stretch of sky, and then I saw the youngest, the one in the lead, break into a run with a whooping cry. I could hear our freedom calling.

We all began to sprint after him, our legs spinning and pounding, forgetting the careful path. Our line disbanded and we moved with ease and grace, no longer through a pond but weightless and barrier less- the joy of the flight making our hearts race and our eyes sparkle with pleasure.

We were moving steadily toward the forest, and as it came rushing towards me I felt myself instinctively brace, although I knew I would reach no impact. In a single burst we all broke the barrier between the great meadow and the trees, and the dull silence was shattered like a stone through a window. No obstacle would stop us running, so we darted through the trees, hair flying behind like streamers in the wind. We were a hive of bees swarming toward a flower, drawn by the scent, unstoppable in the quest for our desire.

Then the forest too fell away, and all that lay ahead was the great blue ocean and the great blue sky, the horizon where they kissed smudged with red and gold. I felt my legs move faster and faster; I wanted to be the first to reach it, I would beat them all. I let out my own cry, a joyful burst of song flying from me as I felt the ground crumbling away. I threw myself forward at the last possible moment and I burst into the open.

I never stopped moving, and I never stopped to see if the ones who had fallen behind were now following, though I knew they would be; this is what they lived for.

I was lost in dream and emotion. This was living, this tumble towards the shimmering blue beneath me, head over heels over head over heels. My stomach swooped and I knew it was love.

Eyes open, the single stream of blurred colour falling alongside me and yet surrounding me. I could hear the wind roaring in my ears as I fell, and I could believe I was flying, borne away on sight and song, on the beauty of freedom. I could’ve touched the clouds then, I know it, and I stretched out my limbs, splaying my fingers to feel the white wisps stream through them.

Then it ended, and the smash that seemed like an apocalypse as I landed, plunging downwards yet still flying, before somersaulting in the water and kicking towards the surface. As my head broke the water the cold air stung like fire, but seemed to embrace me like waves of perfume. The heads of the others broke the surface like ice rising in a liquid, red cheeks, white smiles as we turned our faces skyward. I spun around to see the clouds above me, washed with gold and bronze.

That day I was one of them. A cloud seeker.


The End

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