Every day when the sun is high, Mother comes in to read me a story.  I can read but, I like to listen to her telling me stories.  That way, I can focus on the pictures the words paint rather than the words themselves.

My favourite stories are the ones about flying.  I would tell her that if I could speak.  If I could speak, I would tell her my stories about flying across the sky and touching the clouds.

Today's story was called The Flying Trunk by Hans Christian Anderson.  A merchant flies across the world, in his magic trunk, to win the heart of a Turkish princess. Before he can marry her, he must win her parent's approval by writing the perfect story, deep and moral yet funny as well. 

If I had a magic trunk, I would fly around the world telling tales of dragons and princesses, magic and mystical creatures.  One day I will-

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a soft thump comes from the floor beside my bed.  I peek over the side of my bed to see a large, brown, leather suitcase planted on the floor. It looked worn, and the edges were frayed, but when I reached over and brushed my fingertips over the cool surface it sent an energizing warmth up my arm and down my spine.

"Where has it disappeared to now?" the voice of a man, words clipped in annoyance, sounded outside my room.

The door swings open suddenly, startling me back into my bed.  A tall man, maybe in his early twenties, steps into my room and tips his hat towards me.

"Pardon my intrusion m'lady," he looks around my room, "would you happen to have seen a flying suitcase around here anywhere? It keeps disappearing on me."

I giggle and lean down, pulling the heavy suitcase onto my lap, "is this the suitcase you speak of?"

His eyes brighten, "would you look at that!" he exclaims grinning.

His trenchcoat flows behind him on a phantom breeze as he walks over to my bed. He reaches out and grabs the suitcase, dropping it back on the floor, opening it up. 

Confusion and sadness wash over me as I look down at my bedsheet, dejected. As fast as they come, everyone leaves me alone in here.

"Well," the man's voice interrupts my thoughts, "are you just going to sit there, or are you coming with me?"

I quickly look around to see the grown man sitting cross-legged in the suitcase, looking at me expectantly.  What a bizarre sight, I think to myself laughing. I quickly shoot out of my bed and sit in front of him in the suitcase.  I was not hesitant or scared because I knew, deep down, that soon enough I would be home.

I had to hug my knees to my chest tightly to be able to fit. There is a click, then suddenly the suitcase was hovering above the floor and shooting up the chimney into the night sky.

"I'm terribly sorry I never introduced myself," the man yells over the roaring night wind, "my name is Hanson, I'm the son of a merchant."

"It's nice to meet you, Hanson," I smile turning my body to awkwardly shake his hand, "I'm Bridgette, the daughter of a dressmaker and professor."

"Fascinating, I have always wanted to make a dress," he exclaims, his words being swallowed by the roaring wind around us.

I laugh at the awkward handshake, "Well one day, I will have to teach you! I was able to make them once."

We fall into a calm silence as we soared like shooting stars across the sky. 

I reached up to feel the familiar cool, softness of the clouds wrapping around my fingers.  The sky was so filled with clouds tonight that I couldn't see the stars. I didn't mind, for the clouds were enough for me. Every time I touch them it is as if I was touching them for the first time.

These clouds were different though, they were dark grey and heavy. As if gravity was crushing the lightness out of them.

I couldn't help but feel sad for the greying clouds, and it seemed that they couldn't hold their tears any longer. It was a slow trickle at first, like dripping from a tap. As time went by the stream of rain was, what felt like, never-ending. As if they had finally shattered, fragmented into drops of sorrow that plummeted to the ground in search of a better place.

I couldn't imagine a better place than the sky. The sky was freedom, a place where there was no hunger or disease, just endless beauty.

"Yikes! I wasn't expecting such weather today!" Hanson exclaims over the steady downpour, interrupting my sombre thoughts, "Hold on to your hats!"

I put my hand on my head to hold down a hat that wasn't there. I pause and giggle to myself, noticing a faint smile break out on Hanson's face as well.

"Why would I need to-" I am cut off when the suitcase tilts upwards and speeds towards the clouds.

I shriek as we pass through the heavy clouds which, what I imagine, would be similar to the feeling of wading through water, except if the water was air. It wasn't quite describable, I could feel the cold seep into my bones and yet the weight of the clouds felt like a warm hug.

I couldn't help the disappointment that twinged in my heart as we broke through the clouds. That twinge disappears as quickly as it came as fluffy white clouds appeared in my view. Unaffected by the sorrow of the clouds beneath them. The breath escapes from my lungs as I see the explosions of glittering stars in the dark sky above me. It was as if someone painted the sky in stardust, something that you could only see in your most beautiful dreams.

"It's quite something isn't it m'lady?" Hanson asks as the suitcase floats slowly across the sky, "Seeing the beauty behind the clouds."

It took me a moment to regain my words, "I thought that I would only see this in my dreams," I whisper awestruck.

Hanson is silent and I could feel some sort of sadness wash over him briefly before he spoke again a contagious smile on his face, "for tonight, let your dreams become your reality," he turns his head, showing me a bright smile.

I nod grinning ear to ear, "for tonight, and every night after," I confirm and turn my attention back to the stars burning brightly in the night.

"Hanson, I believe I have fallen in love with the sky," I state scooping up a handful of clouds, holding it to my heart, "have you ever been in love?"

A low chuckle rumbles from Hanson's chest, "yes, I was in love once," he pauses and glances at my eager expression.

I wait patiently as he clears his throat, "she was a princess, as beautiful as the sky above you," he pauses staring at the stars, "people believed I was an angel because I could soar across the sky, but if you ask me, she was the true angel."

He turns around in the flying suitcase to face me, "she was smart and funny, kind and just," he swallows the lump growing in his throat, "people don't believe in love at first sight, but that's what it was."

I tilt my head curiously, "why do you speak of her in the past tense?"

"Well, you see, I had to create the perfect story to please her parents, and that's what I did," he pauses, "but once I won the favour of the king and queen, I was so extremely excited, I wanted to tell the entire country," he looks back at the stars, regret and longing glazing over his eyes.

"I lit up the sky in magnificent colours and shouted down to the people about the engagement," he reached his hand through the air above us, "I didn't realize how dark it had gotten until the fireworks had faded, so I landed in a nearby forest to wait for dawn," he lowered it and hung his head, "when I woke up from my nap the suitcase was gone, so there I was lost and alone in a forest hundreds of miles away from my fiancé."

Silence blanketed us for a moment and before I could say any words of comfort the easy smile returned to his face, "instead of moping about it though, I decided I wouldn't let my storytelling talents go to waste," he swings his legs over the side of the suitcase and stared up at the stars, "in my search for my fiancé I travelled the world telling my stories to anybody who would listen."

We both stare at the stars for a long moment before I ask the question that has been burning in my mind, "did you ever find her again?" I look off to see the smile fade from his face.

"I did, it was years later, I finally found the castle, only to see that she had married another man and had a baby boy on the way," a bittersweet smile found its way to his face, "I am happy that she is also happy, but I cannot help but feel this sorrow overtake my heart when I think of her, and how that could have been us."

"It might help if you talk to her," I say trying to ward off the sorrow edging its way into my own heart.

Swimming eyes met my own as his smile fell slightly, "I should have talked to her but I fear that is not possible anymore," I tilt my head and he sighs, "the Princess died many years ago, she grew old and passed on beside her husband, which is the same for her children, and her children's children," he looks up at the stars sparkling against the darkness.

"Then how are you still here if she is already so long gone?" I ask already knowing the answer.

He stays quiet, not voicing the answer which only confirms my own. We allow the easy silence to take hold as we cruise through the sky. Listening to the wind whip through my hair and the creaking of the old suitcase beneath me.

"Tell me about yourself, Bridgette," Hanson's voice breaks the silence, "I have told you my story, now tell me yours."

"There isn't much to tell I'm afraid," I pause, "I have been bedridden for days. Writing in my journal is the closest I get to adventures now."

"What about before the sickness?" Hanson asks resting his eyes on me.

A soft smile makes its way onto my lips, "my father was a professor, he studied and taught many things, history, English, philosophy; my favourite was astrology," I pause taking a slow breath, "he would show me all these pictures and diagrams of the constellations and planets."

I feel Hanson's curious gaze burn into me, "he would tell me stories about the constellations and describe the beauty beyond the blue sky." 

I tear my eyes away for the stars to look at Hanson, "I told him I wanted to float among the stars when I grew up," a soft chuckle escapes me, "he told me that if I wanted to do that I would have to study hard and apply myself."

"I assume that is what you did," Hanson states grinning, "you worked hard and listened to his lessons."

I nod, "I did just that for about a week," I let out a laugh, "I should mention that I was ten at the time, I soon became too enthralled in playdates and television to really study," I pause to point out, "in my spare time, however, I would steal astrology books from my father's library and read them while everyone was asleep."

Both Hanson and I laugh as the suitcase begins to descend through the clouds and back towards the sleeping city of London. The cool clouds wrap around my body the soft chill seeping into my skin. I revel in the feeling, knowing that it would not be the last time I feel it. 

As fast as we were in the clouds, the soft glowing city appeared below us, cobblestone paths weaving between massive buildings and structures. The suitcase began dipping lower until we were speeding just above the paths, narrowly hitting buildings or parked automobiles. 

"Watch out!" I shriek as we narrowly miss colliding into a phonebooth.

My laughs echo and bounce along the empty streets as we hurtled along street after street until a familiar building came into view. I feel my heart drop as the suitcase slows and flies upwards towards the open window in the attic bedroom. 

The suitcase comes to a halt just outside of the open window, "I'm afraid this is where we part m'lady," Hanson states, sadness coating his voice. 

I nod and climb into the room and lean out of the window, "do come to visit again, won't you?"

Hanson nods, "of course, and I will bring you tales of the sky, and what's beyond it," he promises, "I'm certain we will meet again one day."

With that, a strong breeze blows against me and he is gone. With a sigh, I close the window and lay back on my bed.

The moment my head hit the pillow, pain washed over me as coughs wracked my body. As I slip into sleep I hold onto Hanson's promise. Knowing deep down, that it was very unlikely I would hear his stories of beyond the sky.