Blue sky is lying on his back, breathing heavily. Every breath sounds like a ticking bomb. Cirrus, Cumulus, Stratus, Nimbus gathered at his side in silence. Each of their thoughts drowns them.
“I’ll be okay. Why the long face?” blue sky guessed his sons correctly. “We don’t like uncle Brown.” Cirrus breaks the silence. “The human seems to like him, no?” Blue referred to photos that being posted all over the internet. Aunt Orange and Aunt Purple got most of the attention but Uncle Brown, the youngest of them all, also get attentions. Even more than Blue himself. Although they don’t quite get it how Brown appeared in the dawn when it’s supposed to be Aunt Orange turn. The human also sometimes took Blue’s picture but when it’s posted, somehow Brown is in the picture. A filter, Stratus and Nimbus explained it. Despite the new understanding, Blue insist to have a deep rest and asked Stratus to invite Brown over.
Born out of particulate matter and smoke, Uncle Brown brought smog with him when he’s born. Blue asked him to replace him in day period as Their mother, Grandmother of the quartet clouds, Dark, will stay engulf the night. Brown denied the proposal right away. He’s aware that he’s the embodiment of greediness instead of clarity or goodwill. To appear once a while is okay for him but to envelop the world… that’s too much.
Blue admits his health is declining. Too many carbon dioxide and nitrogen oxides held within his body. His fever is worse every year. Blue grabbed Brown.
“I would not dare to ask Sister Purple or Sister Orange to replace me. Mom is well cared for by them. I need you to switch with me for several years only, two decades at most.” He coughs and releases his grasp.
“It’s not your fault in London in 1950s. I knew you haven’t stopped to blame yourself since that day. Your presence might nudge humans to do better for themselves.” Blue reassured Brown that it’s okay to replace him for a while.
“All I need to do is to hug the earth for a while, right?” Brown started to embrace the notion. Blue nodded. “I hope I will get measured for a while.” “Keep the rain coming, aye?” Blue reminds his quartet. “Yes dad, we will keep the water cycle alive.” Cumulus answered.
Photo by Andre Benz on Unsplash