Martin and Deirdre lay on the grass and watched the sky, holding hands in the approved manner for young lovers in that situation. They also partook of the accepted pastimes.
“I think that one looks like a train. See the smokestack?” Martin pointed with his free hand.
“The sky is so blue. Dark blue, almost like water.”
“Maybe it’s the firmament.”
“What, like the Bible?”
“The water was all in a big sphere overhead. Until rain was invented, anyway.”
Deirdre giggled, but stopped as they heard a roaring sound. They looked up again to see the clouds froth into foam...
Tapson on Tales and Totalitarianism
3 hours ago