The sounds of helicopters passing through were elusive and intermittent, having nothing from which to echo. They could have been anywhere. The visibility above the thick cover was undoubtedly spectacular.

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It was low clouds for days. The sun wasn’t baking them off. The light came through with reticent indecisiveness. It might wait till tomorrow, but it wanted to peek into the threshold.

This wasn’t common in those parts. People went about the days as usual, but it was certainly a conversation. People would stop and look around, look at each other, raise their eyebrows and comment on the strangeness. The question was whether they wanted them to clear out, or did they want all that rain?

That would be a lot of rain. Unless it came in a slow drizzle. These seemed more like drizzle clouds than storm clouds. Regardless, it was odd. Not something the folks around there had ever seen. More than anything, they wanted familiarity. This wasn’t their sky.

After some discussion, and reading, and convincing, the people in those parts determined they’d try something. One of the locals remembered playing as a kid. They described how they’d lie on their backs and focus on a cloud, and concentrate. They called it cloudbusting. By focusing on the clouds, it would cause them to break up, and move out from the area of influence. Upon hearing the story, there were others who also remembered this phenomenon. They also played with their friends and experienced this.

They recalled that this behavior was frowned upon. They would be scolded, and be told to come inside their homes. For some reason, this phenomenon was considered a problem, and it was suppressed. Which explains why they had forgotten.

One evening, they all went outside. They laid on their backs, they consolidated their influence, and remembered. The stars were magnificent.

307 Words.

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