Once upon a time, there were clouds of different colors. Each color was beautiful and special in a different way. These clouds were isolated from each other; each rained on its own land, and the same water evaporated to become the same cloud.
One day, a wind blew. The clouds of every color moved, and they met each other. The clouds were confused. “These clouds do not look like me” they decided. “My color is my favorite color. I am the best cloud.” The clouds tried to make each other change their colors. They each wanted the others to be like themselves. That did not work out. The sweet, soft pink cloud would not be the deep passion of the red cloud, and the mystery of the midnight blue cloud was not the silent calm of the sea green cloud.
Then, it began to rain. The clouds were not alone anymore, so their water mixed on the ground. For a brief moment, their colors mingled, like a marble painting, each color making the others shine as bright as they knew they were. Then, they mixed completely, and the water that evaporated, that became the new clouds, were many colors. Their parent clouds tried to tell them what they should be. “You are a yellow cloud,” said one. Another argued, “No, you are blue, like me.” The new clouds were confused, and although they could have been amazing, decided to have no color at all.
In time, all the clouds became gray, forgetting the colors they had been. “What are colors?” they asked each other. Some remembered, “Colors were clouds that fought each other. They were mean. We are glad we are not colors.” So when they rained, the water had no color at all.
Every day, the rising and setting sun reminds the clouds of the beautiful mix of colors they could have become. And every once in a while, after the gray clouds rain their colorless water, you can see the echo of the colors they once were: a brilliant rainbow painting the sky.
are you sorry? you should be sorry.