Sta.sh
First you started out all packed together. A tight happy family, you know? Nobody fought and everyone was content with how things were going. Who wanted the drama of the outside forces?
Apparently you, or someone else in this small tribe, did because the heat was turning up higher and higher, the temperaments rising along with it. Soon the family that’s once been a cool pack began to go its separate ways. You and a possible, decent boyfriend went into one corner of the space. The rest of the coven went in other areas, ranging from far to close from you and him.
Over a period of what felt like short summer days and brief spring evenings, autumn was forsaken and you all feel the blast of a winter cannon. Suddenly everyone has to pull together to survive, so you all pack tight once more and that familial fondness is shared around the group like a sole cup of hot chocolate. But soon the growth of love, as that would’ve been the same for the hot chocolate, runs out and the heat sets back in. You and your supposed boyfriend head out again. Everyone heads out of the depressing enclosure—all rise to the sky to meet and join with other groups, to broaden their horizons as countless others have done before them. No, no one believes that any of you shall ever see a familiar face again, or feel the related presence of one you grew up with. But there’s a chance, even as small as a particle of a particle, that you could bump into each other in the wide open sky, or as one’s being sucked into a respiratory system while another’s leaving it, changed and a new person altogether. But it’s only a chance. A small atom of a chance.
It was still fun though, right? You must’ve thoroughly enjoyed all those times you had with the other particles. Bound by concern and friendship as a solid, experiencing being a nomad as a flexible liquid, and now flying freely as a gas. You sigh at the feel of being a vapor. What a wonderful change, is it not?
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