On the sun-deck I saw two big clouds, a man one
and a female, they met, kissed and the man cloud
was transformed into a plucked chicken.
Not that the female cloud fared better, for behind
her came huge troll cloud that absorbed her up its
nostrils. In the world of clouds, you never see
the same formation twice, in this immaterial ever
changing world; it is as the saying goes: You can´t
cross the same river twice. Now a massive dark cloud
erased the picture, and as I didn´t want a drab cloud
hanging over me, I got up, walked into the galley and
had a mug of coffee, while the cook fried pork chops.
