We were soaring. The plane was cutting a path up through the air. Eyes cast out the window, it looked amazing. I’d say breathtaking, but when the door opened, that would seem kinda redundant.
Johnny, crazy fool, he kept asking to go higher. Higher, higher, he said, I want to swim through the clouds. Poor sod. He would always tell me that clouds are just water, a mix of vapour and droplets. He said they were meant for swimming.
The door opened, and we saw the clouds beneath us. They shimmered slightly in the sunlight. Like water. He strapped into the harness in front of me, always wanting to be the first to lean out of the plane.
We jumped. It’s always the same at first. The wind is in your hair and you scream in joy. But this time was different. I barely had time to start screaming before I took a blow to the chest, forcing the air from my lungs. I open my eyes. Johnny was dead. Brain matter and blood covered the white cotton. But I was alive.
After all, every cloud has a silver lining.