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Weekly Contest #340
It was Lyra’s favorite kind of day. After a week of rain, the wind had swept clear the smog of the city and it was now partly cloudy, great big cumulonimbus types that dotted the sky and traded shadows as they hovered across the horizon, blinding white in the mid-afternoon sun, casting slow-moving shapes grazing on the landscape. She was looking out the window, standing in her parent’s kitchen. Well, her kitchen now. A few months ago, they’d both died tragically in a hot air balloon accident on a trip to Europe to celebrate their 30th weddin...
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