The Little Dark Cloud is unhappy. He sits alone, above his creator's head waiting patiently for the day the sweeping winds of change move in to push the Little Dark Cloud out to sea, where he will disperse into a light-filled atmosphere. The mood would brighten. The Cloud would be happy.
Millions of droplets of anxiety would evaporate into the sun. The Little Dark Cloud would be dark no more and he could sit amongst the gleeful Fluffy-Whites set in a pastel blue sky looking down upon the glorious glow of the Earth's happiness below.
Until that day arrives the Little Black Cloud must wait in the gloom of the day and the unwelcoming sheet of a star-less night.
Inspired by a love of writing and a need for an outlet. Woman Writes is about anything that sparks my creative flame
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