Clouds never gave up, in their constant pursuit to fascinate me. Or all of us, like she so loved to believe. I’d not give a second thought either way, to those never-ending, unreachable cotton balls that were paradoxical all the same. Quite similar to my very existence, I’d believed. Harbouring thunder and rain under the same shroud, they hardly ever flinched. Deception didn’t take too much after all, did it? I was to learn, keeping secrets took a lot more. Sometimes, a life.
Amidst all that greyness, smudged was a face long lost. Or so I was told. I’d not believe that so easily, unlike the other things I’d lapped up with a billion questions. What was and what was to be, pre-determined is everything by destiny.
I had known that for quite some while, only if she’d accept it too. Hoping for that was equal to hoping for two shooting stars in one lifetime. And that’d be breaking the one rule they’d followed judiciously:
Only one miracle is yours to claim in this life, only one that is entitled to all, the one and the same.