Making stories with the clouds

I watched, as the blanket of clouds vanished from under me, through the tiny opening in the airplane they call a window. Slowly they transformed into shapes; things that I could only imagine, slightly unreal things.

And, almost as if I was transported into the past, when I lay on my back on the hard floor of the terrace and watched as the clouds passed by, watched them quietly, enjoying my time with the sky.

A dog chased a car, and a star was born. Suddenly a dinosaur head emerged, and then a snake, or was that a skipping rope? Then the sky opened up, and I could see in the distance, a castle... approaching it, and the carpet of white all around like snow. Spikes every few feet made me think of Superman's home. How nice it would be to enter an alien planet. Then there was the big hole in the clouds, like someone had torn the blanket of white apart to peek in.

I felt like I was floating, back in my freedom, back in my happiness, back in the times when all I worried about was homework. Floating... floating... and continuing to make stories with the clouds...