The Cat’s Trophy

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky.

The clouds swept across valley and village alike, stopping only to knock at windows and creep in through chimneys.

The clouds wanted little more than to share wondrous visions with the people of this fine countryside, but the closed windows and blocked chimneys made it quite impossible to enter the slumbering homes.

It was, after all, a brutally cold winter.

Of course, the storm of anxiety, panic, and depression that swirled around the sleeping villagers heads made it even harder to receive the gifts the clouds offered, so even the few clouds that managed to enter through the rare cracked window or crackling chimney found it quite challenging to pierce the miasma of worry that wreathed the heads of the overworked and underpaid citizens.

It was a very difficult season for the purple clouds, who wanted nothing more than to bring wonder and wish fulfillment to the world.

One night, the purple clouds gathered in silence over a sleepy little town of 42 houses, 93 citizens, and 108 pets and farm animals.

Mihnea the bard, Vasily the sheriff, Diana the huntress, and many others slept fitfully, as usual, leaving little space for the clouds to share their magic.

“What shall we do?” asked a wispy cloud that looked much like a dolphin.

“How much longer must we wait?” asked a robust cloud that vaguely resembled a slice of toast.

“I tire of this, perhaps the next town will be more hospitable” moaned the third cloud, a crescent nimbus that solemnly grasped a passing night breeze and left the scene quite abruptly.

His anger was felt by all, and the departure of their dear friend made the purple clouds even sadder.

A season passed, and as snowstorms blossomed into springshowers, the minds of the villagers showed little sign of improvement, even in the face of the fields and flowers that were blossoming all around them.

“This is quite embarrassing, but my temper boils over now! See how they disrespect Gaia!” said a crow-shaped stormcloud, who drenched the village in a tempestuous downpour.

The villagers took little notice, stopping only to don rainjackets and umbrellas.

The clouds, furious at the disrespect that the townspeople showed, gathered to whisper amongst one another. Together, they conceived a most cunning plot...

~

To the villagers, it felt like any other night. Mihai the architect enjoyed a wonderful dinner with his lady Thea, Andrea danced around her home to the sounds of an old jukebox, and Stefania was cleaning her boots after returning home from a very exhausting hike.

Above, the purple clouds came to a sneaky agreement. Feeling quite satisfied with their scheme, the clouds settled joyfully into the forests and hills, where they danced with the mist, floated along the surface of local lakes, and gathered in plenty of other places that they prefer to keep secret.

The next full moon, every villager had the same dream.

The clouds cheered and celebrated, for this mighty victory they had achieved was unlike any other endeavor they had ever attempted.

However, when morning came, the clouds were stunned to find that not a single villager was aware of the miracle! Most of the villagers didn’t seem to remember their dreams, and of those that did, none bothered to ask one another about their dreams, or even stop to share their own. They preferred to speak of mundane matters, like debt and duty. The two town drunks, Resvan and Vale, even spoke for hours about every possible subject under the sun, yet not once did the topic of dreams cross their minds. And they both remembered their purple dreams!

And so, much to the woe of the purple clouds, the great miracle went almost completely unnoticed.

Completely unnoticed, it would have been, save for a lone cat who witnessed the entire phenomenon from start to finish.

~

Perched at the windowsill of the mayor’s townhome, which itself sat perched upon the highest hill in the region, Sala had seen everything: the full moon, the whispering clouds, the coordinated dream strike, and now?

The return of the crescent nimbus, who had brought with him a most terrifying army of stormclouds, carrying enough water to drown the whole village!

“I must speak to mayor Vlad at once” thought Sala, already fearing that it would be too late, and running twice as fast to compensate.

Timing is, after all, the most important resource we have when responding to an impending climate crisis.