The Fallen Cloud It happened again. The Cloud descended from the sky. Its large and luminescent shape sat at the end of my street. This year, it chose to visit Mr. Eaton’s house. The retired cop sits on his porch, reading a novel and is completely oblivious to the ethereal visitor in his driveway. Only his old weathered beagle barks fiercely at the anomaly. It runs back and forth, with frantic gestures. Nobody else seems to mind the strange entity. My hand reaches for the wet newspaper at the end of my driveway. Its moisture seeps into my skin. It has always rained before the Cloud appears. Not the typical light showers of summer, but the dreaded humid rainstorm. Only a few houses away, the purple haze beckons me to come. Its reflection shines in the puddles of Mr. Eaton’s driveway. …show more content…
The Cloud comes to our street every year but I have never mustered the courage to enter its hazy mist. Last summer, it landed on Mrs. Harris’ prized flower patch. I wouldn’t dare crush those precious flowers in an attempt to reach the Cloud. Two years ago, it situated itself between two pine trees across the street behind the Gergins' household. The first year it came, it sat peacefully in my own backyard. I lounged on the back porch with Aunt Maria, both of us eating bowls of mint flavored ice cream and studying it. That was when Aunt Maria told me to never touch the Cloud. Since then, I have learned only that Aunt Maria and I can see the Cloud. With her frizzled grey hair and a serious caffeine addiction, I have lived with her in this large empty house for the last seven years. Her face wrinkles in a certain way when she wants to intimidate me, but I know she cares for my well being. After my parents mysteriously disappeared from their business trip all those years ago, Aunt Maria moved in permanently to live with me. She did her best to console my grief, but only time can allow for such scars to
Mary Shelley uses the motif of clouds to beckon the reader to consider seeing beyond outward appearances that may “cloud” the reader’s judgment through the juxtaposition of clouds and birds. Clouds are an archetypal symbol of mystery as they can obfuscate and hide things within their shadows. Similarly, in Frankenstein, clouds are characterized for their ability to conceal. As Victor tries to discard the chunks and members of the torn apart female creation, “Clouds hid the moon, everything was obscure” (210). The moon can serve as a symbol of light in the midst of darkness; light is intrinsically tied to the illuminating qualities of truth.
It is also stated that she has never seen him alone. The storm starts to increase outside, reflecting the sexual tension inside. The storm's sinister intention appears when "The rain beat upon the shingled roof that threatened to break an entrance.". It seems that the storm knows what is going on between the two and is threatening to break in and ruin their chances. They move throughout the house and end up in the bedroom "with its white, monumental bed, its closed shutters, looked dim and mysterious.
Just like the Grandmother had her perception of a good man. At one point the clouds blocked the sun, preventing the family from seeing the light, or the truth. When the Misfit finds the family, there are no clouds in the sky. Indicating the mind is finally clear, there is no sunlight, bearing no truth. The sky also represents the Grandmother’s state of mind that leads up to her death.
They were both nervous at the beginning but were comfortable with each other later. The rain was still falling, but the darkness had parted in the west, and there was a pink and golden billow of foamy clouds above the sea. “Look at that,” she whispered, and then after a moment: “I’d like to just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you around.” Ch.
In the gutters under the eaves and between the shingles of the roofs, a white granular powder still showed a few patches; some weeks before, it had fallen like snow upon the roofs and the lawns, the fields and the streams…
uses black mass of clouds as a figurative language to increase vitality and impact on the reader creating an atmosphere of uncertainty, sin, and manipulation “The blue sky was still visible, except directly overhead, where this black mass of cloud was sweeping swiftly northward. Aloft in the air, as if from the depths of the cloud came a confused and doubtful sound of voices”
We continued down the infinitely long interstate towards our destination. Thunder clouds continued to rumble in, like an ocean tide rolling closer and closer to the beach front. Within minutes the entire landscape was calm and dark. It looked like a total eclipse of the sun, and the once ...
... a space above the world, far above peoples’ heads, yet people stare at them all day. The weather around dictates their mood, the clouds overhead change their views on the entire day. A beautiful sunset is a backdrop to a proposal and happy kiss, the wetness of cloudy rainy day is responsible for an illness that leads to a death, lives are changed in the meeting of the clouds above and the people below. Cole and Blake understood the emotional meaning that comes with the space of clouds. They understood how clouds rolling in make a person feel trapped, and how sunlight clouds are filled with beauty, and how the dark smoke of clouds is a threatening symbol of a revolution. Artists and writers understand the meaning that people associate with clouds, even a meaning as simple as a young woman seeing her hopeful future child in the shapes of the clouds above her.
A crisp uneasiness floated amongst the breeze, taking my attention and turning it to the shadow of a figure lingering on the steps to my neighbors entrance. For a moment I believed that my eyes had deceived me, that a phantom had played tricks with my mind. But as the outline disappeared, stealing with it any doubt I may have held, my head felt dizzy. My heart beat so loud I was sure he could hear it as I ran across the lawn. My heart sinking with each step, knowing it was a trick.
It was a dark, cold, cloudy day. The clouds covered the sky like a big black sheet, nothing to be seen except darkness that seemed to go on forever. This was the third day in a row that there had been complete darkness, there was no getting rid of it. This was because of ‘the meteorite.’
I watched as a fly circled around A Christmas Carol and slowly settled on the nose of the Ghost of Christmas Past, looking down on a trembling Scrooge. No one here but the flies and I, I thought to myself as the rain drummed its incessant rhythm on the roof. I could see nothing through the cascading water whitening the window panes, but I was sure no one was out there on the streets. The gutters were overflowing, carrying the debris of the city to Garbage Oblivion. Good thing the fly didn’t decide to choose to sit on my nose.
We watched the sky in awe as clouds rolled by. Just then, Daniel, who was naturally anxious about practically everything, spotted a group of storm clouds approaching menacingly towards our position. "Stop being so worried, its just some minor storm clouds, they'll pass," I said trying to comfort him. He was a fantastic climber and companion, but easily traumatised. The clouds did look slightly perilous, and my slight trepidation bubbled to my usually ice cold exterior.
As I look around to my friend’s house, something passes in my peripheral vision. Two small lights arise out of the blizzard, like a cat’s eyes glaring at you out of that shadowy corner. I crane my neck to see what it is. Whatever it is it is getting bigger and it looks like it is coming at me. By the time I realized what it was, it was too late to get out of the
We stood there for a while before we noticed the dog. It stood high from the ground, had smooth, short, black fur with copper spots on the bottom of its legs and face, and had perked up ears. It stood still, and we did the same, but frozen in terror. There was no fence
Imagine a beautiful evening in Moore, a suburb lying on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. Mom is in the kitchen and the kids are playing in the yard. In a matter of minutes, the sky turns green and large cumulonimbus clouds start to churn. A crackle of thunder sends a chill up your spine, followed by a strong odor of ozone that fills the air as Mother Nature’s fireworks illuminate the dark sky. Large golf ball-sized hail stings your window and a melody of car alarms play in the streets.