There is just a small cloud, a flimsy pillar hanging wistfully in the near afternoon sky. Strands of fluff float away from the condensated body, feathering at the edges of the brilliant blue backdrop. No breezes ruffle away at its slouch, and only the golden sun interrupts the lonely cloud’s nap to contrast its brilliance with the clouds soothing simpleness. Everything is peaceful in the atmosphere, mirroring the serenity of the little cloud- but only for now. Far away in the distance a black mountain forms, torrents of air kneading the rough grey clouds into the horizon. Lightning licks out from the core of the storm’s fury, and the once still atmosphere starts to churn uneasily as the storm draws nearer. Slowly, the radiant sunshine is snuffed out, and the sky grows dark and damper. Once the black mass is upon the lonely little cloud, it engulfs it with superfluous ease. The cloud’s purity is quickly lost amongst the blackness of the storm, and soon there is no white fluff to be seen. The lonely little cloud is hammered into the center of the storm where it is beaten and absorbed into the storm’s very essence. Just when the lightning starts to burst forth from the heart of the little cloud, and the purity of its heart is slowly rotting into a hideous black stain, the brilliant sun shines through. Breaking up the foggy clouds and cutting through the thunder and lightning like a knife through butter, the golden rays of the sun uncover the assaulted cloud. The angry waves of blackness float away like a sigh and soon dissolve into the skyline, eaten by the endless sea of blue. Once the storm has been destroyed, the Son’s radiance scrubs clean the black soot from the little Cloud’s perfectly white ensemble, and the lonely little Cloud resumes its lazy napping, realizing it is no longer so lonely.

And here I sit, drenched from the sudden downpour, looking up at the lonely little cloud, and I too realize that I am not so alone.