Day 337: Cloud of Tears

Cloud of Tears
by
Matt Zurbo

 

One day a cloud appeared like no other cloud.
(Small cloud, rain falling.)
It rained like no other rain.

Tear drops instead of water, falling to the ground.
(Close up of rain starting to fall on the faces of people looking up into the grey.)

Some people ran out into it.
(Two or three kids running out into the rain. Others peering over window sills, firmly inside.)
Others hid.

Those that got wet were overwhelmed with emotion.
(Two or three kids running, arms wide, faces up, eyes close, in the rain. First view of Bobby, on footpath, watching from under umbrella.)

Some sobbed with happiness.
Some cried in loneliness.
(One boy, crying, has a huge smile on his face. Next to him is a girl, also with tears, hugging herself.)

Some remembered things so strongly…
(Boy with umbrella, on bike, watching couple holding hands, leaning into each other in the rain.)

Caught outside, little Bobby wondered if dragons ever cry?
(Bobby, under umbrella, looking up at dragon growing from cloud, crying.)
Or storm gods?
Or bees?

Many drank the rain. They said it made them feel: 
Strong.
Frightened.

Proud.

All the reasons a person might cry.
(Five kids. One drinking from glass, other holding mouth open, tongue out, to sky. Other three acting out their emotions.)

Others boiled all the salt out of their water, washed it from their clothes.
They declared war on the weather! “No one’s going to make me yearn or need!”

While some danced in it, free, alive!
(Four kids dancing in rain, arms in air, one kicking water up from gutter, tears on faces, one broody, one sobbing, other two happy. Behind them on footpath, crabby, wiry adults curing the sky, wringing their clothes, covering themselves.)

The council tried to get the cloud to move on…
(Men in suits, holding fans of all shapes and sizes, on long stands, to the cloud.)

Little Bobby thought; “The sea is often angry. Breezes always sigh… Why is the cloud sad?”
(Boy with umbrella is tied to balloon, with two fans on hips, facing down. He is in air, looking up. The background is all dark clouds.)

Maybe the oceans were sad about all the damage done to them?
And the rivers and floodways…
(Kid small, in rain-filled air over logged land.)

Maybe the cloud was lost…?
(Boy, held up by balloon, in middle of cloud, looking at small girl crying, she is surrounded by funnels that lead to piping that disappears into clouds. The funnels are catching her tears.)

“Why are you crying?” Bobby asked the little girl.
“I don’t know!” she replied.
(Boy looking at little girl, who has eyes closed, touching tear on her own cheek.)

“That’s okay,” Bobby said. “Sometimes it’s good to feel.”
(Boy hugging girl.)

And he hugged her…
(Kids on ground hugging each other, dancing, raising hands into air, as sun cuts through edge of cloud and rain.)

(Two kids, one sitting on ground, both with their eyes closed, sun on their faces, that are facing upward, tears drying. Shrivelled, huddled adults, still sheltering, in shadows behind them.)

Until the tears were gone.
(Boy with balloon and fans out back now, flying through sky. Clouds with sun cutting through them, no rain.)

 

The End