Tiny sat up in bed, and sighed. Her heart-bird felt heavy, and had been silent for days. The grown-ups on the telly-box were always mean to each other, and Penny-dog was still moping over her lost bone. Tiny felt a splash on her cheek. She looked up to see a puffy grey cloud hovering inches above her head.
She frowned and wiped her face. “What are you doing there, little cloud? Are you lost?”
The cloud smirked. It gave itself a shake, and squeezed a few raindrops onto Tiny’s hair. They were cold, and wet, and raced down her neck.
“Urgh!” she whined. “That’s not very nice!”
The cloud sniggered, squatted, and soaked the sheets in an instant. Tiny leapt out of bed with a gasp. The cloud bounced in the air with an unapologetic sneer.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you can’t stay here! I’m afraid you’re going to have to go home,” said Tiny, charging through the front door, followed closely by the cloud. She looked into the morning sky for the little cloud’s family, but it was clear as day.
They stood face-to-cloud. Tiny glared. The cloud turned a shade of charcoal grey.
She bellowed, “please go away!” But the cloud just rumbled with thunder. Tiny tried to hide behind a discarded water bottle, but the cloud grinned back through the clear crinkled plastic. She threw her hands into the air—it was hopeless.
She had one option left, and that was to run. Dashing across Orange Blossom Lane, she leapt up the curb, and slipped under the gate into Madam Orly’s garden.
Tiny stopped in her tracks—it was a paradise! Tall, cheery sunflowers swayed in the breeze, and the air was filled with the scent of sweet honeysuckle. She was caught in a moment of bliss, and felt her heart-bird in her heart stir again. Suddenly remembering her unwanted visitor, she looked above her head. The little grey cloud had turned a cotton-wool white, and shone with a dazzling silver glow. Tiny watched it drift high into the bright cobalt sky, each waving goodbye with a smile.