How to pop a cloud

"Popping the Clouds" is a blog created to dream. Imagine a world where dreams could come true, and clouds could be popped like balloons. Tell a story, write a poem, share a recipe, talk about your ideas. Mention your latest book, a song, a sentence, a dream... Feel free to fly and reach the "popping clouds".
Showing posts with label Short Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Stories. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Arrival Home

To be able to have a wooden roof supported by weak colourful walls that feed me in the inertia. Surrounded by a perpetual garden, one where the dream does not remain in vain. To feel the breeze, and the air that fills in my lungs where I am able to feel safe. Walk along the pathway, enjoying the brief moments along the way, to sustain a breath or two just to contemplate the surroundings. Reaching for the moment, to embrace the feelings kept for someone special. Open a window, close a door, climb the staircase that takes me in the return to my comfort, light the fireplace and wait in the beginning of the twilight your arrival at home...

By: PopCloud

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Can you tell me a story?

Can you tell me a story? – He asked. How could I refuse to a child looking at me with those bright eyes. Well, I begun, When I was travelling along the country I used to climb the highest mountains trying to find out what was in the other side. One day, I was surprised by a beautiful woman that came across me and started asking me questions. What kind of questions? Questions about human nature, and dreams that fade away before someone has the strength to catch them and live them as their own. But this woman, I continued, She was different from the others that I’m used to see, therefore I kept on talking to her even though I was curious enough to start making my own questions as well, but she was so avid in her speech that it stopped me from inquiring her. She was pale, but in the softest kind, her hair was long and the wind was spreading her enormous curls between the trees that I couldn’t see where it ended. Was she a fairy? I guess she was. Her long transparent dress was covering the entire floor full of old leaves in such a crystal way that I thought it was a shining lake. I talked to her for a while. She put her arms around me and embraced me so hard that I felt like I was going to suffocate with such energy, but I felt safe, and I let her arms around my shoulders. The path where she had come through became soft and warm. I closed my eyes and rested for a while. When I woke up she was no longer there. Then I realized that she had never been there. I was the mysterious lady. I had that power inside me. So I continued my journey, and from that day on, I never stopped chasing my dreams. Even thought they seem awkwardly impossible to some people’s eyes …

By: PopCloud

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Afternoon Sun


Picture taken in Algarve, Portugal



The sun consumed the shining yellow skies, spreading the rays of light through the houses of the village illuminating the dark divisions, observing through the trees searching for unprepared couples in the bushes, coloring girls' shy faces that were close to the sin, burnishing the landscapes, transforming them into postcards of strong colors that would be delivered into photographs prepared to fill hearts that would be kept in closed drawers after seeing them. And, right over there, inside of the several drawers of the planet, that afternoon sun would be dead, letting the destination lay it down inside of the dusty furniture next to the forgotten letters and unusable boxes of remedies. Removing all the color of the photographic paper transforming it into dark night without stars, filed in a minimum space with no light and suffocating it without ever shining again.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Flying

The branches were bending forward at the top of the tree. Sam couldn’t reach them, she tried to but she needed to stretch her arms wide open until she could see the sky. Clouds of white were floating by and the inner blue was almost transparent. She stood there beneath the tree, picking from a leaf and choosing the colors randomly just like a painter preparing his work. Clouds were no longer white, she gave them a touch of green, a dark green with brown spots, then she did the same with a red leaf and turned the sky into night. A butterfly stood by a flower watching her, Sam looked down and realized that she was no longer on the ground. She opened her arms, took a deep breath, touched a sparkling star and started flying leaving all her problems behind, and the butterfly never saw her again.

Written by: PopCloud