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Written By: Stewart Worthington
June 12, 2015
I ponder down below me, at the world underneath the sky. The shining, green grass gleams in the sunlight and is forced to brown in the shade of who is grey. The wind between the tall standing trees loudly howl like a wolf on the pitch black night of a full moon. The sun is bright, presenting his powerful ways like the self-involved star he is. Upon the ground ant like people scatter around, showing off the fact that they have arms and legs. These selfish, extremely tiny people pollute the air with their barbeque breakfast smells and results of manufacturing activities. Their construction sites make a racket and their radios blare, but when the sky is carpeted and the land is drenched, the humans become quiet, the world comes to rest. Umbrellas are up, voices are low, true colours start to show. Not just the array of umbrella shades, kind humans going out of there way. They gracefully lend a helping hand to one another, supporting each other in the bad weather. They smile at this, and I smile too. So when lights of the city below turn off, the wolf howls like the wind and the grass appears to black, I realise a life of a cloud isn't so bad.