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She watched as the jets leapt skyward. They didn’t reach the sky. They stopped far short and spattered back to the ground.  She wondered if the water felt anything. Did it hope to touch the clouds? Was it disappointed not to? Did it wish that it could stop this perpetual stretching for the impossible? Did it ever just want to settle in a pool and rest, allowing its glassy surface to reflect the sky instead. That was as good as touching the clouds, wasn’t it? A reflected sky was beautiful and anyone could see and enjoy it. 

The jets flew upwards again.  She felt their determination mocking her. 

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About Dabblewords

Reluctant writer, word dabbler...tea maker, coffee drinker, rum imbiber, chocolate eater.
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