Bookmark #231

It rained last night so the clouds are still here. I wish you could see it—the sky. It’s that sweet pale orange that we once saw together. You can’t see the hills too well; they’re the usual blurry blue. You’d have liked it.

I sat on the balcony to read but couldn’t shrug the clouds moving slowly to give way for the clearer sky. The birds flying over the fluffy shades of blue, intertwined with each other. The clouds remind me of us holding hands; the sky looked rather similar, I think, when we first did.

There’s this little cloud peeking between the blues. It has a tiny tinch of violet. The colour which I cannot possibly describe in words alone always makes me think of you. Cold and blue, and yet, if one looked closely, there’s a plethora of warmth in there. I should know; that warmth was what I fell for.

Since I got interrupted by the clouds to start writing this pointless description, the clouds have moved and given way to a clearer sky. They didn’t fully disappear but I can see the plain, almost white canvas much more clearly. The hills are visible now, too.

I think the clouds banded together into a large, dark one. I wonder if it’ll keep raining for some time, here and there. I don’t see the violet cloud now. I believe I lost track before it merged with the rest. Perhaps, it lost its colour after the sunset.

You would’ve loved the sky right now. Another sky has turned darker, and another day has ended. I believe that’s what growing older is about. You went on, no matter how the skies looked. Sometimes, you stopped and took inventory of it all.

I’m not sure whether it’ll rain tonight. It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t dislike the rains anymore; they don’t remind me of you anymore. I wonder if I’ll see that violet cloud again someday. I wonder how long it will be before it stops reminding me of you.

Until then, I think I’ll let the clouds do what they may, keep my head down and continue reading. That’s the only thing left to do until the skies clear up.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here