That morning, a solitary happy cloud wandered in a blue sky, dotted here and there by other white clouds, some in groups, others solitary like her.
A light wind blew the cloud, and gently caressed and molded his body, white and soft as freshly fallen snow.
The cloud looked at like the greenery of the hills, and of the valleys and of meadows, interrupted here and there by the houses of the peasants, flowed beneath it.
In the barnyards in front of houses little figures of people never stopped going back and forth, while others were in the fresh cultivated brown fields; two people instead, that’s nice, they stood motionless, lying on the grass in the sun. Intrigued, she wanted to observe them more closely, and tried to descend, but the wind refused to allow her to do so.
The Lonely Cloud half-closed the eyes to look against the light some clouds that were not far away, and to which she hoped to join. In particular – it was spring! – she had a strong desire to get closer to the other cloud that she liked, with which – in short – to be together, so together that they form almost a single cloud, a little bigger.
To repair his eyes from the sun, the cloud looked lonely from time to time on the other side, but at the top there was an ugly menacing black cloud and then the Lonely Cloud, frightened, immediately distracted her eyes.
The Black Big Cloud was all alone, away from the other clouds.
Black Cloud hated all the other white clouds, but at the same time she was attracted to them. He admired the lightness and the snowy beauty of them, and he despised himself for the clumsiness and the heaviness.
He had within himself a great resentment against everything and all, and felt an irrepressible urge to download onto them his angry electricity.
Meanwhile, the distance from The Lonely Little Cloud, decreased again because of the wind direction, and the Black Cloud noticed it, and the more that she approached, she liked most: in short became dominant the thought to possess it, and pierce it with the tightest of lightning that he had within her.
The flow of things in this world does not obey to our dreams, to our desires, but it goes relentless following the path that is written in itself.
Pierced, the solitary Nuvoletta, who in the meantime was becoming a light drizzle, barely had time to utter a single question: “Why?”
Meanwhile, Hyacinth and Florinda – the two people lying on the grass – were enjoying the sun, nature and their youth. “What harm have I done to you to be treated so? You’re everything I want, but I can’t feel you as mine, and this expectation has become unbearable for me. ”
She took a wire of straw from his hair, long and ponytail, and absently ran the tip of it on her face. And slowly, weighing his words, she said, ” Hyacinth, you know, we still have our house, and I do not want to do things stealthily. If I wait, then you wait too”
“Maybe you can because there I will not have anything for you, otherwise not talk like that,” said Hyacinth.
At this point, the drizzle of the Lonely Cloud joined them.
They got up, surprised and amused, because they were in full sun, and did not expect it at all.
“Come – said Hyacinth – we take shelter from the rain!” And they started to run in that direction.
Florinda she walked toward the barn, but walking slowly, exposing the face and whole body and your arms straight down and remote from the hips to the drops of rain, surprised herself of the pleasure with which welcomed them.
Florinda lived in harmony with nature, she felt the changes of that, even those milder. She was like this: happy, she had a slight and fleeting smile, testifying that she had found her again this symbiosis.
She went into the stable, and she went to sit next to Hyacinth, the straw piled up at the bottom.
Florinda tried not to look Hyacinth into his eyes, but she felt his gaze fixed on herself. Especially felt that now a change in his soul c ‘was, something stronger than his desire commanded her to let go: then she did not try to wipe the drops of rain, but slowly she lay down on the straw.
Hyacinth looked at her, and felt your breath away: it ‘s had never seen her so beautiful. He started lying beside her, lying on his side, but he did not dare touch her not to put an end to that state of stunned lightness and magic. Then she looked at him straight in the eyes, and slowly began to take off her blouse and bra.
The two appeared swollen breasts and her nipples erect and pointed ‘s towards the top, an invitation and a challenge.
Hyacinth felt the majestic and powerful wave that rose inside, and that drove him to jump on her furiously, but he managed to control it.
He read in his eyes that what was happening was part of both, and thus ought to be lived together instant by instant.
Then he discovered her belly, which she had beautiful, flat and ivory, and slowly he put on his hand, holding it for a moment, and absorbing the vibrations, then he began to slide down that towards floor…He was on her, which took his erect member and introduced him within herself, and for a moment they stood still, eyes into eyes, and it seemed as if time had stood still for a moment and then scan the initial instant of complete mutual intimate knowledge. Then, leaving the wave drag that grew, they both began to move together, opening those magical spaces where there is nothing else but your loved one, to the summit of mutual and total possession.
When they parted, the last drops of the drizzle of the Lonely Cloud trapped between their panting bodies evaporated up towards the sky.
Now Lonely Little Cloud no longer existed at all, and yet we do not know the exact moment when Lonely Little Cloud, struck by lightning, ceased to live. We can’t determine the time of death with certainty, but, for human sympathy, we want to believe that this happened just at the end of embrace between Hyacinth and Florinda. In this case, Lonely Cloud would share – in the last moments of his life – a human experience, thus fulfilling at least in part to his desire.
We can’ t know if those drops could one day be part of another Lonely Little Cloud luckier than the previous one. We do not know, but we can and we must hope that it will, in defense of all Loves, as possible, as little as possible and the impossible.