Just a lost boy...

In a small town...

Another story astray in the clouds...

Miles wore the look of a runaway; he walked like he was lost and his bright eyes took in the little town in wonder. A quiet, quaint place with narrow streets and winding alleys that would lead you in circles.

But it was enough to satisfy the curiosity of a fourteen-year-old runaway.

A gentle drizzle had begun on the brick road he was walking on, his amber eyes taking in the small cafes lining the street. Not many people were in sight. It was dead place. But to Miles, everything he saw unraveled a story, like he was peeling the layers off it one by one.

Clack, clack, clack.

The old man's stick which clacked off the pavement wore a heavy, tired expression as he pulled a satchel over his head to keep his bald scalp dry. A person who'd seen everything in life, waiting for the day he'd leave it all behind for someone else. A fatigued man with a ghosted wife.

The young woman taking shelter in a café with a cup of coffee in her hand, staring absently out the window. Eyes lost in the rainy haze, a laptop by her elbow. A single working parent waiting to go home after a long day, her young son sitting on the carpet in front of the door in the living room as always, anticipating her arrival.

A child's shrieks echoed down the street and a pair of shoes splashed in a puddle. A chastising parent's voice followed him and pulled the child by the hand, leading him away. But the splashing didn't stop, just followed the parent as they made their way down the road.

A grown man quietly walked past, shoulders slumped, hands slipped into his pockets; no raincoat, no umbrella, his steps aimless, resounding on the path. A loner, seeking intoxication from the rain, a small escape from his daily life.

His shoulder brushed Miles as he walked past, who glanced back at him before turning his bright eyes to look at two men in suits running by with briefcases on their head, laughing as their shoes splashed in the puddles.

He watched a gloomy teenager-about eighteen-leave another café, his hoodie hanging high over his head. He looked like he'd slept barely two hours. He didn't look at anyone as he walked away, kicking a pebble on the path the whole way.

Miles closed his eyes, looking up so the raindrops evaded his face.

He was just another boy with a lost story, lost with the sky. He saw things written in the clouds that no one bothered to notice. When the sky cried, it rained. When it felt blessed, it shone. When it was tired, it clouded. But never did it ever slip over their heads. Never did it fall. He felt that he owed it to the sky.

Miles grinned and opened his eyes, looking at the street gone dead quiet again. He broke into an exhilarated run, his steps noisily falling into the water flooding the street and kicking at his heels. He was drenched, but he didn't care.

The wind nipped at him, brushing against him as he sped by. The sky spoke to him sometimes, he believed. He liked to talk to people. Didn't the sky?

He faltered as he felt another presence with him there, in the shadows. He stopped and saw a black figure-in just a sweatshirt and shorts-huddled at the side of the road, over a drain, about twenty feet away from him. He stared from afar.

What was this person doing and what was their story?

It was a girl with long smooth black hair tied up in a ponytail, about the same age as him maybe. He just watched her. He never said anything to anyone. People were different from what we presumed when they were alone. That was the only time they were real.

Miles knew that better than anyone. So he just watched.

She was crouched over the drain, so he could only see her back. She was so quiet that nobody would've noticed her. But Miles noticed everything.

A few seconds later a white lump appeared from behind her in the drain, floating away from her. She stared after it, smiling. The light raindrops created a dark stain on it as they enveloped it.

A paper boat.

It rocked violently as rain fell in the water, raging about it. But it kept going. Then the girl fell back a little and watched it go down the trail of water, catching Miles's attention. She didn't notice him; her eyes were only on the white boat.

She reminded Miles of himself. That lost, distant look. Alone, free, a careless child who only longed for love. A runaway.

The rain had receded to a light fall by now, the dark clouds dense over them. The chilly wind whistled sharply past them, flapping at their clothes. Miles gazed at her, longer than he had at the others. Longing to hear her story.

The girl finally stood up, her eyes still lingering on the white paper boat drifting away from her, still treading on despite the water raging about it. They both were alone on the street, the only sound being the very light splash of the drizzle and the chilling wind.

She turned her head and gasped a little in surprise as she noticed Miles. But when she looked, she saw the same thing in his eyes that he saw in hers.

And she couldn't look away.

And when their eyes met, the sun peeked out from the clouds and enveloped them in a warm light.

Just two lost kids...

In a small town...

Another story astray in the clouds...

***