cloud mouth

guqin
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKNeParT2eQ
Pandit Hariprasad and Pandit Shiv Kumar
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0bg56s3jFM
Through the crack, I see a gray cloud emptying its rain into the toilet. It’s a small cloud that meteorologists would probably call fog. The splashing continues for a while, and the cloud begins to lose its grayish hue as more and more rain hits the toilet bowl. I stand back from the door when I sense the scenario is almost at its end, though I lightly knock on the white door, which the cloud now matches, with one of my knuckles.“Uh…you gonna be too much longer?” I ask tentatively.“Not too much longer,” the cloud says. The downpour has lessened significantly, and the remaining drops hit the water like the sound of coffee as it finishes brewing.“I was gonna take a shower,” I say, explaining myself. But, I think, I’m in my own place. Why should I have to explain myself?“About done!” the cloud says. The androgynous voice echoes like it would in a cave.Later, after I shower and dress, the cloud is in front of one of my open apartment windows, staring outside at something I can’t make out. My place is in disarray, but I can’t motivate myself to clean up the piles of clothes on the floor or dishes in the sink.“Hey, you wanna go for a walk? It’ll be a long one, though, since I’ll be crossin’ the river and all.”“Yeah,” the cloud says. We head outside and walk towards the 2nd Street Bridge. The cloud explains that he is indeed fog, and that all clouds, once in their lifespan, are permitted to observe and mingle with other life forms - plants, animals, humans - to see what life is like on the ground. I wonder what difference it makes, but don’t ask.“So you don’t live for long?” I ask the cloud. He says no. “Are you a he or a she?”“I’m neither actually. In fact, clouds are asexual and reproduce accordingly, like some worms. We don’t live very long at all. A few weeks at most. You all, however, live like 70 or 80 years - maybe more.” For practicality’s sake I decide to call the cloud a “he” since I’ve been doing it anyway.“That’s not that long in the scope of things.”“Maybe you’re right.” As we near the bridge, I look forward to crossing it. Despite needing a paint job, it’s a nice walk across the Ohio River, and the bridge itself leads into the downtown area of Louisville, Kentucky. The sun’s out, glittering off the water, reflecting back in the direction it originated.“River looks clean today,” I say. We’re on the sidewalk now, crossing one of the many bridges that connects Indiana to Kentucky. The cloud is hovering next to me, over the open water. To the left is the Sherman Minton Bridge, which is being painted light gray as we speak. “Y’know what’s funny?” I ask the cloud. “What’s your name by the way?”“No name. Just call me Cloud, I guess. And no, what’s funny?

both afterlife and lambs quarters are available for free download at headphonica :)