it's -- clouds. (i hesitate.) thick moisture in the air? hard to see through. look up, at those treetops. how they're hard to see? that's fog. see?
I can tell by the angle of her chin that she's not looking high enough. She sees the tree trunk, not the canopy. But she nods.
I want to touch a cloud, the boy says.
you're walking through one, i laugh. the fog dampens (my voice).
He puts his hands over his head, his fingers stroke the air.
I don't feel anything.
I drive (just above) posted speeds. My cargo sleeps. Clouds scramble across the sky, black just looking over its shoulder to grey, perpendicular to my path. Where are they going? A higher strata seems still, black blankets that bow under the weight of someone laying down. To sleep? On the job? I can feel the pressure on the space between my eyes. I push back with slightly raised eyebrows to keep my eyes open. To watch the road.