10 July 2005



We climbed ladders and pulled clouds from the sky. We stuffed the clouds into bales and brought the bales into the house where we upended them, pouring clouds onto the living room floor. They were damp and soft. We dried them with hair dryers until they shriveled up into balls of coarse fiber. We stuffed the balls into our pillows. That night we dreamed of lost loves, long dead pets, and the sadness of birds with broken wings. In the morning we all told our dreams, shed tears, and hugged each other. Later we stored the bales for another year.

Nice. I think I would have ditched the clouds after a night of dreaming like that, however.
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