I drift, cusping the edge of the atmosphere. Fear pulpitates my brittle bones as I stare below; the distance is so much greater than I imagined when I first let go. I muster the strength to swim through the building density anyway; the grief pulling me forward in just the right proportions. I feel. I trust. Breathing in deeper, I sink with my mind at peace. There will be no more fighting if we rebirth time and space; allowing bare feet to brush the land with tender loving care and Fearlessly challenging societal norms.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
It is with deep regret that I’m here to inform you that, due to a miscalculation by our ground staff, we have failed to load any of the alcohol trollies.
I can confirm, you will all have to manage your flight today, sober.
Please let our staff know if you desperately require alcoholic sustenance, and we can perhaps squeeze out some juice from the antiseptic wipes in the first aid kits.
Other than that, and the fact we also forgot to load the food, we all hope you have a pleasant flight.
Above the clouds, I thought I’d escaped it all. The conference. The deadlines. The damp weight of grief I refused to name. Thirty thousand feet—where no one asks questions, and engines hum like distant oceans.
Then the announcement: aurora sighting ahead. I leaned toward the window. Green waves unfurled across the night. And there—on the wing—my late partner’s scarf, unmistakable, fluttering in a windless void.
I blinked, breath caught. The scarf danced, looped once—then vanished.
The flight attendant passed. No, sir, nothing on the wing.
Above the clouds, love sent a reminder: some goodbyes remain incomplete.
Real as they appear in the sky, you cannot hold a cloud in your hands. From the softness of cumuli to the icy shards of stratus, they effortlessly swirl and beckon us from above. Thrust skyward out of turmoil, we clash with the fleeting forms in a turbulent ballet.
Gritting our teeth as their might rattles our very bones, we endure the shuddering until we can break through. The world below disappears, newly cloaked by the undulating currents. From the tranquility of an endless sky, we marvel at the elusive vapors that challenged us to overcome simply by rising above.
The planet's surface was molten. Geysers shot lava and steam high into the air. Above the clouds, but below the shimmering, city-sized ships orbited.
They not only survived but thrived--trading peacefully, sharing discoveries, even exchanging citizens as they crisscrossed the globe. Some traveled from pole to pole, others circled the equator, still others followed their own aimless paths.
It was a peaceful, pleasing existence, between the heat of the planet and the cold of space. But one question puzzled galactic historians and anthropologists: how did they get there in the first place?
She giggled like a schoolgirl as he wrapped his arm around her waist and squeezed. By "she" I mean my wife, and by "he" I mean Stavros—Claire's new, handsome work colleague.
"Haz she not said anything about lit'le Stavvi," he said, still squeezing her waist, "Haz she not told you about our dancing lessons? Maybe a surprise, no?" He smiled through his Mediterranean stubble; those pearly-white teeth glinting in the light.
Yes, surprise is one way of putting it. If jealousy is a stinky cologne, I'm giving off great clouds of it. Goodbye, no, I can't stay; no, really. Really.
Above the clouds, the world looked peaceful—just endless blue and sunlight stretching forever.
Ariel grinned as the plane door slid open, wind rushing in with a roar. This was her first tandem jump, something she’d dreamed about for years. Her instructor gave a thumbs-up, and together they leapt into the sky.
The fall felt like flying, her heart pounding with adrenaline and joy.
She counted—one, two, three—and pulled the cord.
Nothing.
She yanked again.
Still nothing.
The wind screamed louder, drowning her thoughts.
Why isn’t it opening?
Why won’t the chute open?!
The instructor chuckled, then pulled his chute's cord
Wait until the they are big enough to be able to try it, and let them watch. and don’t say you are too old then. I was 55 and I did it because a 80 year old lady had raved about her jump in spring that year.
LOL, they are old enough, they are 31,27, and 25, but still need me around I guess even though they all have their own lives. I turned 55 this year, I HAVE to do this soon. I also want to start up weightlifting again, I wanna be in-shape when I get really old :)
You do not need their permission slip. This is your life, theirs is theirs. They do not own you. They care—wonderful. They are concerned for your safety—I hear them. And still: this is yours to choose. You will do it. You will smile. And your dogs will greet you like the sky hero you are.
Izzibella, I was flying with you on this one. I did one 4 years ago and it was one of the greatest experiences of my life, so I knew she could yank all the way she wants.
Izzibella, I hear them—and at the same time, everything we do carries some risk. Statistically? Fewer people lose their lives on tandem jumps than crossing a busy street. I looked it up when I did mine. It felt strangely reassuring. And flying above the clouds… such a gift of perspective. The dogs might agree, too, once you land safely with a big smile.
I tell them I’m more likely to get into a car accident then get hurt sky-diving or even on an airplane. But, kids always worry about something happening to their parents…jeesh, who would cook them dinner LOL
As a child, Professor Fenian dreamed of what was above the clouds. Climbing the tallest hills to get a closer to the heavens. A new era began, man reaching to the skies by balloons raised aloft with heated air. Now on the journey of a lifetime, the professor climbed into the jet stream, unaware of the speed he was traveling. His village faded quickly from sight and soon he was helplessly being carried over the ocean. Finally, landing in a strange land, he was promptly invited to dinner by the locals, where unfortunately, he was to be the main course.
Prompt by: THE FICTION DEALER: Microdosing Fiction - 100mg of Above Clouds
Ed looked around as the clouds floated past. He marvelled at the speed and intensity they were demonstrating. “It is a whole new world up here," he thought as his travel progressed. He wished Marge were here to enjoy it with him.
Ed’s eagle eye spotted a plane in the distance, its blinking light pulsating amongst the moving clouds.
As the sun set below the distant horizon Ed wondered about his ability to see in the darkening night. Would he be able to spot planes?
“Everything alright up there?” Marge’s radio call asked.
I drift, cusping the edge of the atmosphere. Fear pulpitates my brittle bones as I stare below; the distance is so much greater than I imagined when I first let go. I muster the strength to swim through the building density anyway; the grief pulling me forward in just the right proportions. I feel. I trust. Breathing in deeper, I sink with my mind at peace. There will be no more fighting if we rebirth time and space; allowing bare feet to brush the land with tender loving care and Fearlessly challenging societal norms.
Good to hear you're still alive. What a sentimental piece I like it. Good work Miguel as always
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
It is with deep regret that I’m here to inform you that, due to a miscalculation by our ground staff, we have failed to load any of the alcohol trollies.
I can confirm, you will all have to manage your flight today, sober.
Please let our staff know if you desperately require alcoholic sustenance, and we can perhaps squeeze out some juice from the antiseptic wipes in the first aid kits.
Other than that, and the fact we also forgot to load the food, we all hope you have a pleasant flight.
100mg of Above the Clouds
Above the clouds, I thought I’d escaped it all. The conference. The deadlines. The damp weight of grief I refused to name. Thirty thousand feet—where no one asks questions, and engines hum like distant oceans.
Then the announcement: aurora sighting ahead. I leaned toward the window. Green waves unfurled across the night. And there—on the wing—my late partner’s scarf, unmistakable, fluttering in a windless void.
I blinked, breath caught. The scarf danced, looped once—then vanished.
The flight attendant passed. No, sir, nothing on the wing.
Above the clouds, love sent a reminder: some goodbyes remain incomplete.
Credit where credit is due, Above Clouds was nice inspiration, but I couldn't trim it down to 100 words. I've posted the result, though. https://substack.com/profile/233600316-ema-stonig/note/c-123434864
Thank you Ema, it was a nice read nevertheless.
I like the story and the story behind the story. What a great tradition and a great way to honor those who have gone before us.
PROMPT: ABOVE CLOUDS
THE HARPS
Far above the clouds, we began playing our little harps.
We were glowing with joy, as we contentedly strummed away, creating sweet, melodious music.
But unfortunately, the other plane passengers didn’t see it that way.
And soon told us to shut the hell up, because they were trying to sleep… 😎
100mg of ABOVE THE CLOUDS
Real as they appear in the sky, you cannot hold a cloud in your hands. From the softness of cumuli to the icy shards of stratus, they effortlessly swirl and beckon us from above. Thrust skyward out of turmoil, we clash with the fleeting forms in a turbulent ballet.
Gritting our teeth as their might rattles our very bones, we endure the shuddering until we can break through. The world below disappears, newly cloaked by the undulating currents. From the tranquility of an endless sky, we marvel at the elusive vapors that challenged us to overcome simply by rising above.
ABOVE THE ⛅️ CLOUDS
I really can't deal with death .
I hold on to Jesus because
He says he'll take a pause
Then return above the clouds of glory
He says eternal life is ours
If you only follow him
Does it hurt to sing a hymn
Of glory to God above
But He promises will never die
I would really love to see
Those who were taken from me
And He's the type who never lies .
So, I am counting on that promise
To see my mama again
And Clinker the poodle and all my friends
He is coming soon on those glorious clouds
To take us above the clouds
To Heaven where it's never loud
Peace and harmony abide
And we sit by Jesus's side
I love Jesus, it's plain ro see
But please don't be offended
The world is about to get upended
His name can only save thee!
Thank you, Miguel !
Thank you , Scott!
Thank you , Jay !
Thank you, Scott!
Thank you , Jeannine!
The planet's surface was molten. Geysers shot lava and steam high into the air. Above the clouds, but below the shimmering, city-sized ships orbited.
They not only survived but thrived--trading peacefully, sharing discoveries, even exchanging citizens as they crisscrossed the globe. Some traveled from pole to pole, others circled the equator, still others followed their own aimless paths.
It was a peaceful, pleasing existence, between the heat of the planet and the cold of space. But one question puzzled galactic historians and anthropologists: how did they get there in the first place?
That's what I'm here to find out.
She giggled like a schoolgirl as he wrapped his arm around her waist and squeezed. By "she" I mean my wife, and by "he" I mean Stavros—Claire's new, handsome work colleague.
"Haz she not said anything about lit'le Stavvi," he said, still squeezing her waist, "Haz she not told you about our dancing lessons? Maybe a surprise, no?" He smiled through his Mediterranean stubble; those pearly-white teeth glinting in the light.
Yes, surprise is one way of putting it. If jealousy is a stinky cologne, I'm giving off great clouds of it. Goodbye, no, I can't stay; no, really. Really.
Above Clouds - 100mg
_____________________
Above the clouds, the world looked peaceful—just endless blue and sunlight stretching forever.
Ariel grinned as the plane door slid open, wind rushing in with a roar. This was her first tandem jump, something she’d dreamed about for years. Her instructor gave a thumbs-up, and together they leapt into the sky.
The fall felt like flying, her heart pounding with adrenaline and joy.
She counted—one, two, three—and pulled the cord.
Nothing.
She yanked again.
Still nothing.
The wind screamed louder, drowning her thoughts.
Why isn’t it opening?
Why won’t the chute open?!
The instructor chuckled, then pulled his chute's cord
Wait until the they are big enough to be able to try it, and let them watch. and don’t say you are too old then. I was 55 and I did it because a 80 year old lady had raved about her jump in spring that year.
LOL, they are old enough, they are 31,27, and 25, but still need me around I guess even though they all have their own lives. I turned 55 this year, I HAVE to do this soon. I also want to start up weightlifting again, I wanna be in-shape when I get really old :)
Well then. How did they say it at NIKE?
JUST DO IT!
You do not need their permission slip. This is your life, theirs is theirs. They do not own you. They care—wonderful. They are concerned for your safety—I hear them. And still: this is yours to choose. You will do it. You will smile. And your dogs will greet you like the sky hero you are.
Izzibella, I was flying with you on this one. I did one 4 years ago and it was one of the greatest experiences of my life, so I knew she could yank all the way she wants.
I want to do this but my kids always talk me out of it saying if something happens to you we aren’t taking care of the dogs
Izzibella, I hear them—and at the same time, everything we do carries some risk. Statistically? Fewer people lose their lives on tandem jumps than crossing a busy street. I looked it up when I did mine. It felt strangely reassuring. And flying above the clouds… such a gift of perspective. The dogs might agree, too, once you land safely with a big smile.
I tell them I’m more likely to get into a car accident then get hurt sky-diving or even on an airplane. But, kids always worry about something happening to their parents…jeesh, who would cook them dinner LOL
This is very sweet. I didn’t expect the middle and ending. I love how much you do with 100 words!
Thank you Katherine! :)
A second one appeared!
Skyward Bound
“No Angels to be seen,” noted Marge.
“Nothing but blue sky,” observed Ed.
“Golden sunlight,” observed Marge. “Wait could those be… Golden Arches?”
“Let’s see,” replied Ed. “It’s a bit far away. Let’s change course and have a look.”
Marge adjusted the settings on her jetpack and headed off. As the clouds moved there were no arches to be seen.
“You would think there would be something up here,” started Marge with disappointment.
Sputter. Sputter. Marge’s jet pack gave up the ghost. “Ahhh… “ yelled Marge as she pulled the ripcord on her parachute.
“Gravity,” thought Ed. “That’s a hard lesson.”
100 Words Above the Clouds
As a child, Professor Fenian dreamed of what was above the clouds. Climbing the tallest hills to get a closer to the heavens. A new era began, man reaching to the skies by balloons raised aloft with heated air. Now on the journey of a lifetime, the professor climbed into the jet stream, unaware of the speed he was traveling. His village faded quickly from sight and soon he was helplessly being carried over the ocean. Finally, landing in a strange land, he was promptly invited to dinner by the locals, where unfortunately, he was to be the main course.
Skyward Bound
Prompt by: THE FICTION DEALER: Microdosing Fiction - 100mg of Above Clouds
Ed looked around as the clouds floated past. He marvelled at the speed and intensity they were demonstrating. “It is a whole new world up here," he thought as his travel progressed. He wished Marge were here to enjoy it with him.
Ed’s eagle eye spotted a plane in the distance, its blinking light pulsating amongst the moving clouds.
As the sun set below the distant horizon Ed wondered about his ability to see in the darkening night. Would he be able to spot planes?
“Everything alright up there?” Marge’s radio call asked.
Ed replied, ”the balloons are doing well.”