Even the Clouds Smile

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The bedroom was a sealed Fort Knox. An old black fan stood in a corner: the last bulwark of defence against the terrible heat of that day of August. The heat from its engine was exceeding by far the supposed cool that it should have been producing from the movement of the scorching air.
"... I’m going down to the store to help mum."
"Recently, the young dandy is getting his ass busy."
"You could do something too, every now and then," Santiago thought, managing to keep his mouth with a bridle at the very last moment.
"There is an article on the International on how bad news are preferred to positive ones and their effects on society," he chose instead to answer.
But the 15:00 news were now efficiently irrigating the paternal synapses and absorbing his whole focus.
"After 3 months from their first appearance, the research on cumuloids continues by the international expert pool led by Dr. Venters. All the analyses confirm that their molecular composition is not different from that of any other type of cloud: minute particles of condensed water and / or ice crystals. In the meantime, yesterday, the United Nations Security Council unanimously approved the resolution requesting the member states of... "
"Chemtrails were not enough, eh Tiago?"
"I do not know, I try not to look at them. Those faces in the sky might also be harmless but they frighten me," Santiago cut short.
The quasi-dialogue would have certainly not produced anything positive in its prolonging, thought the twelve year old son. On board of his Zanella Motoneta, Santiago darted away from home, heading for the beach.
Down there, among the umbrellas reserved for the guests of the Los Reyes hotel, there were Vicky's deep black eyes waiting for him. Maybe today they could have been alone, maybe there between the waves or under the umbrella, he would have finally told her words that, for long days, had been banging in his head like the ocean’s backwash.
He still thought of those enigmatic clouds, the cumuloids, whose immense faces had formed and flaked in the skies for months now. With no exception, their eyes were covered and they displayed a subtle smile, similar to that of those Greek statues he saw in one of the rare occasions he opened his school books.

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"What an idiot." Two rosy dawns light up on Vicky's cheeks to contradict the apparently cynical exclamation.
In front of her, two hearts drawn with a wooden stick on the sand of the shore with their initials inside. Tiago floundering.
A sharp cry pierces the silence. Dazed looks of the two twelve-year-olds jumping first on Vicky's younger sister, then, through the kid’s expression of terror, bouncing on the celestial vault behind them.
A cumuloid, alone, stands out clearly in a fake turquoise sky like the wing of a theatre stage. There is no trace of a kouros smile on the gargantuan cloud, which now seems about to drift on the sea shore. The ivory jaws widens deformed, vomiting a myriad of other faces. Distorted mutations depart ferociously from the obscene atmospheric funnel just to pierce back the smooth nimbus’ face, devouring its ephemeral flesh.
Time slows down around Tiago and Vicky, holding hands together without even realizing it...

...

The bedroom was a sealed Fort Knox. The dusty wings of the old black fan tried in vain to reduce the fiery heat which it ironically flamed. The steady clank clank clank of its engine gave the scenery a metronome-like background tone...

Then the scene blanked out...

Only to return in phases...

"I'm going down to the store... the store... the store..."

clank clank clank

"the young dan... getting... ass busy..."

clank clank

Then the television came on, all by itself...

"After 3 months from their first appearance, the research on cumuloids continues by the international expert pool led by Dr. Venters. All the analyses confirm that..."

Tiago stood in the middle of the room and looked around searchingly, the room was empty. He felt that something was missing, he was missing a scene, an event... His thoughts were cut short by the sound of the television. The reporter was gone, replaced by his father...

"Don't you leave this house Santiago! You hear me? You hear me? YOU HEAR ME!?"

He shut his eyes and put his hands over his ears...

Then silence...

...clank...clank...clank...clank

"Santi dear, I like you too..."

He opened his eyes. Vicky's deep black eyes stared straight into his soul with intense passion. He basked in her gaze, no dream could feel this real and satisfying. If it was, he wasn't willing to wake anyway... For these eyes, these eyes stirred his within, a ticklish sensation that almost seemed like... like... like...

Like searing pain!

The scene fades...

"Hold still Tiago, almost there..."

"...he'll lose the leg. We can't save it..."

"What about the girl?"

"...she didn't..."

...And reopens at the St. Peter's Hospital. Tiago opens his eyes to gruesome images of himself, hooked to countless wires and pipes. And even though his mobility was held back by these restrictions, they couldn't stop him from screaming...

"Viiickyyyyyyyyyy!"

At the corner of the bed, an old black fan soldiered on, oblivious to the havoc wreaked by the lethal smile of clouds...

clank...clank...clank...

THE END

#SladenSpeaks

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Written for @f3nix's Finish The Story Contest Week #23

I have to admit, I wanted to skip this week's edition because I initially struggled to get the first part. But though it took me many readings, I eventually got the hang of it... Or did I?

Oh you f3nix! 😁

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