The Cloud. Episode 2

The cloud came with instructions in diagrammatic form. There were no words in the four page leaflet; just child-like pictures.  She understood from them that she should spray a fine mist at the cloud twice a day. Once when the sun came up. And once when the moon came up. She wasn’t sure whether to take this literally. Should she lengthen and shorten her days with the seasons? She’d forgotten to ask in the shop. She bought distilled Scottish water. Ordered it in bulk. She worried about all that plastic. But not as much as she worried about spraying treated tap water at her chaste, unadulterated cloud. The cloud quivered under the mist. The quiver of new butterfly wings testing their first flutter.