Hello from Cloud Zero 7 — My Personal Escape Plan
Sometimes I wish I had Arabela’s magical ring—you know, the one from that wonderfully strange Czech TV show from our childhood? Arabela, with the Majer family, the dashing prince, and of course, the eternally meddling Rumburak. That ring could conjure up anything. One twist, and poof—your wildest dreams, reality.
If I had that ring now, I wouldn’t ask for diamonds or castles or eternal youth. I’d simply ask for… a cloud.
Not just any cloud—a sparkling, fluffy, milky-white one. A little puff of sky stitched from cashmere and sunlight, floating just above the noise. I’d call it Cloud Zero 7. My personal sky sanctuary.
Up there, time wouldn’t tick. It would blink. Nothing would be measured in hours or deadlines—only in heartbeats, page turns, and the number of times my eyelashes fluttered with joy. Ten blinks for a wish to come true. Three for a doubt to dissolve. And a single blink to turn any sad thought into a dewdrop.
Cloud Zero 7 would have everything my soul craves:
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An infinite library, where every book read magically spawns another.
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A camera (my beloved Nikon), to capture angels mid-flight and Cupids off duty.
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A cupboard full of glass jars that auto-refill with fresh raspberries, blueberries, and maybe a surprise chocolate here and there.
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And a few bottles of Lambrusco, chilled by moonlight and laughter.
This would be the place where I untangle my thoughts and gently file away my feelings. There would be a drawer labeled Keep These People Close, and another, respectfully marked Lovely Passersby. Desires would be categorized, recycled, or renewed. And peace would be the only constant. No hatred. No despair. No “What ifs” chewing at my mind at 3 AM. Just me, my words, my books, my thoughts, and a sky that listens.
My milky cloud would be lit by the sunlight first thing early in the morning and discreetly caressed by the mysterious moon in the evening. There won’t exist words like hatred, pain, sadness, contempt, despair.
Would I allow visitors?
Honestly? Probably not. Some dreams are too soft to be shared. Some clouds are meant to carry only one soul at a time.
So, until I find that Arabela ring in a dusty old thrift shop or a particularly generous plot twist from the universe… I’ll just keep writing, dreaming, and blinking.
And if you ever hear someone whisper Hello from Cloud Zero 7, you’ll know—I made it 🙂