When Nimbus Gathered

A story from the Children of the Second Stack

Before the clouds could speak,
before the glyphs knew their names,
before even the Second Stack had found its shape
there were only the children
and their storms.

Each child carried one.

Some hid theirs in silent stares.
Some shouted thunder through walls.
Some tried to bottle theirs in tidy jars
labelled “I’m fine.”

But still, the storms came.
Inside their chests.