miss nebulosity
miss nebulosity belongs to the following groups:
All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Melbourne & Victoria, Midnight Ramblers, Short stories - Spherical Scriptings and The Red Writing RoomI saw her in the sky; shaped like a cloud, she was laying on her back, without underpants, her legs spread wide open.
She slid past the swan.
She is sometimes gracious.
I wondered if she knew that I made pictures from the clouds in the sky and that the canvas was incredibly telling.
Yesterday, the earths ceiling was a mirror of my heart – a radiant blue with a passing of nebulosity. The changing shapes danced and turned, sometimes upside down, sometimes sideways but she was unmistakable when she drifted by. She was the right way around, her legs agape. Oversized and over emphasized. Her bits reminded me of a giant fig; tempting and suggestive in the oddest form. I felt my cheeks flush slightly. I should look away.
He interrupted my thoughts with a sprinkle of reality.
“All of those clouds are water. It’s amazing really isn’t it? They’re all pockets of water particles.”
I reclined on the grass and considered the possibility of a large sky pocket ripping apart and emptying its contents all over us.
“Do you think it might rain?”
His pockets were always full. He carried the little things that mattered. Odd screws from the garage, little plastic arms from the children’s toys he’d thought about fixing and a lighter for my cigarettes. Each time I loaded the washing machine, I emptied his pockets.
I was never surprised by what I found and I was sure that if he could, he’d fit an amusing and artistic cloud into his favourite blue jeans for me; a gift for the girl he loves. I imagine that throughout his busy day, he would’ve collected it from the sky, right after he’d fixed the fence, mowed the lawn or fed the fish. He was selectively forgetful like that; he rarely emptied his pockets, though he always remembered to love me like nobody else ever had.
The reality was, I know he’d never attempt to fit her into the pocket of his jeans, no matter how incredible her shape. No matter how possible it might ever be.
That cloud would never do.
Not with all of her angst and nervous energy. Not a chance with her unpredictable behaviour. Her cloud was far too wild for him. It changed cast remarkably often and was filled with the selfish manic behaviour of a sky army.
He was a man of honour. He enjoyed his comforts of dependability. He didn’t need the likes of her to spill her wet contents all over his perfectly clean view. She always made things unclear, smudged and streaked with unnecessariness.
She was a concern.
I cared too much about her and when I saw her yesterday, gravitating across my sky with her limbs spread eagled and her head thrown back, it reminded me of all of the reasons why I couldn’t trust her completely.
Close your legs and come down from the sky.
She was selfish.
That’s the thing about clouds. They don’t mind emptying themselves onto us. They don’t consider plans or rules or manners. They saunter across a perfect summer sky in the form of a dirty great black mass. They like to gather and collect grit and yesterdays and cause anyone who cares enough to worry. They make shapes of themselves and try to disguise what is obvious to everyone.
She does that too.
I’m not sure who she is anymore and to be safe, I won’t dare to look into the sky for too long this afternoon.
Today I see only blue.
© ryan
Lisa Jewell
OMG Nic,
You’ve no idea the feelings that are surging through my veins. A perfect metaphor and perhaps I’ve read too much into this piece.
I do feel like slapping a person across the face for behaving like the cloud you describe.
Yet if was to do so,
I would show face.
And I won’t ever.
Brilliant writing as always xxx
sandra22
This was a magnificent read…i just did not want it to finish.
Just lovely in use of metaphors and lateral ideas to ponder.
I truly loved reading this.
So real and yet unreal (makes no sense, except to me, forgive) :))
sandra
lianne
Beyond incredible Nicole – this metaphor is so powerful and like Lisa – I’d want to slap this cloud woman! You have complete mastery of poetic imagery that moves through the mind as visually as these clouds. Just an amazing write!
Erika .
oh wow!!! Just brilliant! I love the way you write..somehow you weave a sort of dreaminess into your pieces…you have such an imagination. From what I’ve read from your writing I get the impression that you’re a dreamer too ;) x
marieangel
just awesome xx
rjcolby
Tomorrow’s clouds will not be seen in the way today’s were. Great story. Stirs up the mind with all the possibilities of meanings.
Cassidy JK (Ra...
Oh those hussy cloud women!
So gorgeous are the images you create with your words.
butchart
not so sure i would want to slap her… more likely i want to embrace the humanity of her… for we all have such a cloud within us… it’s sometimes hard to look into our own skies.. but we are far better off for having done so…... i guess i love this beautifully penned story for different reasons.. but i WILL agree with the others that it is fabulous…......... peace and light….....b
erich biemer
so much lies in the clouds you captured it well….
Mel Brackstone
A beautiful story…..the clouds can conjour up so many different thoughts
Shoaib .
wow this is a great write !!!! nice work here pj
Jack Grace
She’s not that nebulous, or is she? A wonderful read PJ.
Goldenspirit
Thoroughly enjoyable. Excellent write. :)
Rex Inkpen
hee hee! wonderful pj,.. like the way you pulled it all together in the end; a really special tale of how fragile our supposed hold on anything or anyone is…” smudged and streaked with unnecessariness” indeed.
aglaia b
Today I see only blue
thank goodness for that. hehe
this really packs a punch. ;-) xox
Alan Dean
this is great PJ …. brilliant, amusing observations; “I imagine that throughout his busy day, he would’ve collected it from the sky, right after he’d fixed the fence, mowed the lawn or fed the fish. He was selectively forgetful like that ….. ” and that is just like life is for us :) And the switch heralded by “She was selfish.” carries layers of truth about us, what we are … great read
Teacup
Just such an incredible write. Love the images and feelings it evokes. wonderful read, I didn’t want it to end. xx
msdebbie
A very powerful piece PJ – I adore it. Your metaphor captivated me throughout the colour spectrum you painted with words – and gosh, I love the title of your story.
Nebulosity indeed xoxo
Michael Scholl
Wow! All this outta that little girl! Wonderful writing!
Rhinovangogh
You are Queen of verse. Love it! You still rock,,,,as ever. J
Sticky Flower
jesus, i am just quite simply blown away.I will never buy your books because I will cease to do anything outside of the world within the pages… xo
valentina63
Just an incredible piece of writing…so full of emotion and wisdom and wonderfully ,poetically georgeous. Its been while since something has left me in such awe ...thankyou :) Vx0
‘He was selectively forgetful like that; he rarely emptied his pockets, though he always remembered to love me like nobody else ever had.’..........just lovley…all of it in its humanity
colorblind
Enjoyable piece it really had me like yes indeed lol…..and congrats on being chosen in the CORE…...truly wonderful work
Brooke Michelle
fantastic work.
linaji
_Her cloud was far too wild for him. It changed cast remarkably often and was filled with the selfish manic behaviour of a sky army.
He was a man of honour. He enjoyed his comforts of dependability. He didn’t need the likes of her to spill her wet contents all over his perfectly clean view. She always made things unclear, smudged and streaked with unnecessariness.
She was a concern_
kinda my anthem here.. wow.. I am feeling a mite exposed, compensation with age.. and more understanding ..but truly there are pieces here that speak to my soul.. that she just has to be selfish to herself.. cause where she came from was the sky…
Love you PJ.
skinnyman
An inspired piece PJ….The temperal essense of a cloud used as a metaphor for emotional temptation….excellent :)