Their whispers are distant at first. They barely carry over the harsh whipping of the wind. As the gale strengthens, though, so do their voices; as it batters against them, whipping their hair into their faces and forcing tears from the corners of their eyes, their throats grow hoarse from their shouts.
Then, far above them, the clouds begin to shift over each other, as though they’re engaged in some great waltz. They twist together, unfurling and tumbling over each other.
Continue reading: Sky Waltz – A Writer’s Beginning