The rain poured down on the old man, as his tattered shirt bellowed in the wind. A small nail stuck out from his weathered face. He thought to himself, “I won’t let them win, I’ll show them who’s who and what’s what” his mind raced as he hammered another nail in a wooden post. The staircase was crude, its wood gathered from driftwood, and misshaped trees. Its crooked form twisted up to the clouds above and below the island of the lonely old man stood still in the darkened rain.
The air became cooler as he built his pantheonic structure, the dark clouds below gave way to lighter and fluffier skies. The clouds themselves become like giant cotton mounds filled with water, his body shivering from the drop in temperature. He continued to lay down the boards using crude ropes to bring up more materials from the land below. As the old man worked time seemed to pass slower. His mind slowly focused on stairs, while his clothes stiffened by the cold air. The old man hands pruned, and his limbs skinned with hunger.
However, the man pressed on, his determination struck into every nail and fastened with every board. He took short rests as the days passed by, his towering structure lifting through the sky, he sustained himself on caught birds, and collected water from the clouds themselves, but alas his body was still breaking apart.
As the man lifted to the next level of the sky he saw the sun. It shone bright casting shadows across the horizon of clouds like they were a landscape unto themselves. Its majestic colors and bright light soothed the old man’s doubts.
However, his staircase was just a small part of the man’s thoughts, the sky was just too beautiful for him to not rest and enjoy the sightseeing in front of him.
So without delay he created a small platform to enjoy this newfound beauty and to give his weary body rest. He thought to himself, “I’ll take a longer break here, this shall be my mid post then after I’ll continue” so he went about creating a small camp making sure to center the gorgeous view. He fastened a small hammock and laid in it his direction pointing towards the setting sun. It’s golden hues pouring over the tips of the clouds as if the clouds had treetops on them. His mind wandered as he looked into the horizon, forgetting whatever purpose he had as he closed his eyes and drifted into a dream.