We live in the clouds these days. Not because we are flying high, or feeling elated as such. Nope. It’s a matter of the clouds taking a risk and coming down to our level.
Life on cloud nine is no seventh heaven, let me tell you. Life on any cloud so within your reach is no heaven at all. It’s a soggy, humid mess that makes for a heady morose brew. It’s a spirit much diluted by what else, but plain old water.
When you live in the clouds, the way we are these days, it seems, you’ll have to make your own sunshine, unless you already have handy a nice stash of moonshine. Life in such low hanging clouds puts a damper on many things, including the effort to make the prose sparkle. So before I bring you all down to the level of the anchored cloud that covers the mountain today, I think I’ll stop right here….