So he walked, and climbed until he found the biggest empty spot. It was rocky, on top of a hill, and all he could hear was the sound of the wind. It gently brushed his silky black hair, but made his body shiver and his mind stray.
He looked above, at the sparkling sky, took his finger and drew a line. He was mesmerized by the shining stars, telling a story with every line. He drew a shape, then he craved, he did it again, he was amazed.
“What is the sky trying to say? I can’t read nor recognise the shape. ”
Suddenly he felt a sting in his arm, it was loose and completely numb. He slapped it, stung it, and gave it a tug, but nothing seemed to wake it up.
Until he looked in front of him.
A layer of clouds covering the alleys, and a set of lights bursting from under. A mix of colors brushing the clouds, giving the boy a wave of pride.
He forgot about the pain, even though it didn’t go away. So he just lied above the clouds, drawing some more into the sky.
With a smile on his face, he understood what the sky was trying to say.