The grey, cloud-shot sky loomed over the city. It enjoyed the misery it rained upon the tall and squat buildings alike.

“Be inside and feel dreary,” the sky seemed to say.

“Be outside and feel misery,” the sky seemed to shout.

“You cannot escape my depressing reign,” the sky seemed to sing out.

And, with all the suddenness and violence of an earthquake, the sky opened up and cried down it’s melancholy feelings, drenching the city in it’s tears. With a tremendous roar, light arcs form the tear soaked clouds and they smash their tails into the too tall buildings, trying to knock them down. Nature deserves to rise while the metal monstrosities fall.

The tears have receded, more of a trickle than a roar. The gray sky, shot through with blue, banishes the melancholy clouds from its kingdom. Beckoning colors into its arms, the gray sky fades blue. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet arc across the width of the city, joining the distant people together.

“Happiness,” the sky says.

“Joy,” the sky cries.

“Peace,” the sky sings.