The little lonely cloud
That morning, a happy cloud wandered lonely in a blue sky, punctuated here and there by other white clouds, some in groups, others lonely as she.
A light wind pushed the cloud, and it stroked and gently molded the her floating body, white and soft as freshly fallen snow.
The cloud looked slide under her all that green of the hills, valleys and meadows, interrupted here and there by the peasants' houses.
Front farmyards some figurines of people did not stop going back and forth; others were rather in the brown fields of fresh cultivated; two instead, that's great !, they stood motionless, lying on 'grass in the sun. Intrigued, she wished to observe them more closely, and tried to get out of proportion, but the wind direction not allowed her to do so.
The cloud had to close instead his eyes a little to watch in front of the sun other clouds that saw little distant, and to which she hoped to could join. In particular - it was spring! - she just wants to get closer to an other cloud that looked like, whether she liked it; with which - in short - to be together, so together that they form almost a single cloud, a little bigger.
To protect her eyes from the sun's rays, the cloud looked at from time to time on the other side, higher up on the horizon, where there was an ugly black cloud, that seemed to look so menacing; then, frightened, the cloud quickly averted her eyes.
The Black Cloud stood aloof from the other clouds.
He hated all the other white clouds, but at the same time he was attracted by them. He admired the their lightness, the their snow-white beauty, and he scorned for his awkwardness and heaviness. He had within him a great grudge against everything and everyone, and he felt he had to vent his anger, his electricity Meanwhile, the distance from the Speech Lonely increasingly diminished because of the wind direction, and the Black Cloud noticed her And more he approached her, more she liked him: soon his dominant thought was to possess her, and stab her with the lightning more tense he had inside him.
The flow of things in this world does not obey our dreams, our desires, but ranges through the relentless path that is written in itself.
The Lonely Cloud was hit. And as she turned into a light drizzle, she barely had time to utter a single question: "Why?"
Meanwhile, Hyacinth and Florinda - the two people lying on 'grass - enjoyed the sun, of nature and of their youth.
"But what you have to wait?", Hyacinth asked. "What harm have I done to you, to be treated like that? You are everything that I want, but do not you feel me, and this waiting has become unbearable for me".
A fleeting shadow passed over the blue eyes of Florinda. She took off from the hair, she wore long and in a ponytail, a straw, and absently she passed the tip on the face. And slowly, weighing his words, she replied: " Hyacinth, you know, we still have no our house, and then I'm not going to do things surreptiusly. If I look, you can also expect you. "
"Maybe you do you do it because I am not all for you, otherwise you will not speak like that," said Giacinto.
At this point, the drizzle of lonely cloud joined them.
They got up, surprised and amused, because they were in full sun, and did not expect it at all."Come - said Hyacinth – shelter us in the barn!", And began to run in that direction.
Florinda also walked her toward the barn, but walking slowly, exposing the face and entire body and your arms straight down and clear: from the flanks, those drops of drizzle, surprised herself the pleasure with which upheld.
Florinda lived in symbiosis with nature, she felt the changes, even
more minor ones. It was like that: met, had a slight and fleeting smile, testifying that she even once remarked that his symbiosis.
She went into the barn, and went to sit next to Hyacinth, piled straw on the bottom.
Florinda tried not to look Giacinto in the eye, but he felt his gaze fixed on himself. She felt especially now that a change inside his soul was; something stronger than his will commanded her to let go: then, did not try to dry out of the drizzle drops, but slowly lay down on the straw.
Hyacinth looked at her, and felt breathtaking: not the never had such a beautiful view. He lay down beside her, lying on his side, but he dared not touch it to put an end to that state of stupefied lightness and magic. Then she looked at him straight in the eyes, and slowly began to take off blouse and bra.
The two appeared swollen breasts and nipples erect and pointed facing the 'high, an invitation and a challenge.
Hyacinth felt the 'majestic and powerful wave that was rising inside, and that led him to throw himself upon her furiously, but he managed to control it.
He read in his eyes that this was happening belonged to both, and was lived together moment by moment. Then, he discovered the belly, which had a nice, flat and ivory, and slowly he placed on his hand, holding it for a few moments, and absorbing the vibrations; then began to slide down towards floor ... It was about her, which took his erect member and introduced him within herself, and for a moment stood motionless, staring into his eyes, and it was as if time had stood still for mark the 'first moment of complete mutual intimate knowledge. Then, leaving drag by 'wave that grew, they began to move to' unison, throwing open those magical spaces where there is no null 'else but the beloved, until the' acme of mutual and total possession.
When they parted, the last drops of drizzle of lonely cloud, trapped between their panting bodies, evaporated, climbing up into the sky.
Now the bubble Lonely no longer existed at all, and though we do not know the exact time when Speech Lonely, struck by lightning, passed away. We can’ t establish with certainty, but, for human sympathy, we want to believe that this is precisely the case at the end of the embrace between Hyacinth and Florinda.
In this case, Lonely cloud would share - in the last moments of his life - a human version, body, its slight dream of his plane desire.
We can’ t know if those drops may one day be part of a speech bubble Lonely other more fortunate than the last. We can’ t know, but we can’ t and must hope so, in defense of all the Loves, those possible, those less and those impossible.