She loved clouds. From the distance, they looked like Heaven's play things. Each time she stared at them she was brought back to that childhood fantasy of jumping from one to the other before cuddling into them, exhausted. From below they challenged her to interpret their random shapes and assign them meaning, but above, here in the airplane she felt like they were old friends, personal and intimate, bringing back memories of a fantasy that never happened. What she loved the most about clouds though is how volatile they are. You truly see a cloud when you fly through it. You realise that it is not cuddly at all. At its core is a mass of air pressure and currents and other things she didn't quite understand but yet it all served to make it seem more mysterious. Lightning and even rain came from clouds and consequently floods and death. She really loved clouds because they seemed like the masks which the gods put on. A playful cover that says we mean peace but expresses that we also have the upper hand. The clouds are in control and as she flies through them she feels secure. Someone has control, a force much bigger than her is calling the shots. Tonight they are peaceful. The brightness is starting to break through the cracks on the horizon as it does at the start of every morning. She knows that it is only a matter of time until the clouds will own the colours and absorb them, as the sky explodes, no later and no sooner than the gods commanded.