///On Hiatus\\\ [Stories That Never Took Off]

Sky Runners

Sky Runners

a novel

I held the thin silver handle of the pail between my teeth as six others balanced precariously on my head and arms, splayed out like a trapeze artist. I hurtled along the bridge, swearing unmentionables with vigor between clenched teeth.

And so I ran.

My bare feet skimmed along the ground, the pathway as soft as cotton. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that one step onto the bridge could send me hurtling down faster than a blink of an eye. It looked about as stable as marshmallows, the white puffy clouds supporting air.

But confidence burned in my veins as I sped onwards. Lifting an obligatory hand in a sign of hello as I passed a familiar face. The path was worn and familiar, something I run through everyday. Never stopping.

"Kix!" I tuned swiftly, still running as the soft pattering of footsteps reached my ears. Around the corner sprinted Aze. He grinned cheerily, his spiky blonde hair flopping in the breeze. With each step he took, the Bolts shuffled in his metal pail.

Shrieking, he passed the bucket to his other hand as the lightning crackled against his wrist.

"Thunderstorm?" I asked quietly, glancing at the bucket in his hands.

He rolled his eyes, "A huge one! I have to make at least 50 runs back to the Sky!"

I gave him a sympathetic look before waving and turning away. I sprinted down another bridge to a small niche. It was like a place where the sky dropped away. It was a small circular hole in the ground, except there was a thin layer of film surrounding it, almost like the membrane of a bubble.

I glanced at the Supervisor, his steady storm-grey eyes fixated on my every movement. He gave a small nod and I tipped the bucket back and let the water pour down. As soon as it hit the bubble, the water was enveloped in a spherical cage and floated gently down. As it lowered in altitude, the shape morphed until it was now a dark, dense rain cloud. I watched quietly as it thundered and shook, letting the rain pour down atop the heads of the people of the planet below.

The Supervisor gave a polite cough and I was shaken out of my reverie. He motioned towards the Sky and the empty buckets in my hand. And I flushed with hot embarrassment. I hastily bowed and took off again, still embarrassed for stopping the endless cycle of weather.

I am a Sky Runner. Every second of every day is comprised of an endless race. The Sky is the base of all Sky Runners. Here we forge lighting bolts, capture the sound of thunder, collect buckets of rain, decorate snowflakes, and much, much more.

Our work never ceases as we strive to keep the Sky in perfect order. A clap of thunder resounded through the bridge and I barely skipped a beat, waiting for the sound of sizzling from the lightning bolts. Since we are born, we are taught to run. Our job depends entirely on time, if we get a single order from the Sky wrong, the entire ecosystem would be in havoc.

That is the job of the Sky Runners.