The Fallen Cloud

James sighed; it was getting quite dark out, and Lisa was still nowhere to be found. James gave up; he would wait ten minutes more before getting up and leaving. Having decided on a course of action, Jason searched for what could keep him occupied for ten minutes. It was snowing so James decided to get another cup of coffee (it was his third) and go outside.

The air was cold, as was expected. The snow looked pathetic falling from the sky; barely any drizzles of white as the fall from the heavens. It seemed like the remnants of water that dripped from your hair after you dried up. He was just about to head back inside when he saw a giant cloud in the sky. Obviously, there were other clouds, but they were dark grey or on the occasion light grey. But this one was pure white, a white so perfect it shone.

The cloud was descending; rapidly. It seemed as if it was hanging from a rope, a rope which had recently been cut off. It fell and fell until Jason was sure it would collapse on the town. And just as it was about to, it exploded; covering the city in a blanket of pure, white snow.


In response to Flash Fiction Week #51 – 2016 from Flash Friction For The Practical Practitioner.


 

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