In the early days, we had a few arguments with adults.
The arguments went a little like this.
One of us: "dad, watch out, you're just about to walk through a great mass of jellyfish!"
Dad: "Just stop it. I'm sick of hearing about it."
Dad walks through the jellyfish.
Dad: "See, I didn't feel anything."
One of us with our eyes boggling out of our heads: "What, you didn't see it!? Try harder!" Or: "Keep up, didn't you feel a shiver?" Or: "Well that proves you're already a wet blanket, you woos!"
It didn't take long for us to realise that no adults could see the clouds. And there doesn't seem to be many people over the age of 18 who can see them.
I guess I feel sad for those people who can't see them.
They're missing out on so much. They're infinitely fascinating.
I keep changing how I think of them.
Sometimes I think they're just like jellyfish, floating in the air.
Other times, I think more about the being inside each bubble. Those times, I think of them as bees.
But of course, if you see a group of them from a distance, they're just like clouds.
Another fun thing about them is that you can just change the focus of your eyes and almost blot them out.
It's as if you're looking at things a few paces ahead but you're also zoned out.
You can walk through a cloud of them when you're like this and it comes as a shock.
They feel cool and – this is a weird thing to say – your skin feels different.
It's like you've been using an expensive moisturiser. It's as if you've been rejuvenated.
YOU ARE READING
How we lost the world
Science FictionThis is a dystopian tale where we find out what was really important all along. What would turn your world upside down - where desk jobs were no longer an option, where all your community's sporting fields and open spaces were turned into market gar...
