Nimbus the Gentle Cloud: A Soft Story About Big Feelings

Little Nimbus felt a rumble deep inside. It wasn't the boom of thunder. It was a rumble of too many feelings. Nimbus was a small, puffy cloud, as white and soft as a cotton ball. He loved to drift high above the world, watching everything below. He saw tiny houses with tiny roofs, and green trees that looked like little pieces of broccoli. He watched cars crawl like busy beetles along winding roads. From way up high, everything looked quiet and peaceful. But Nimbus knew a secret.

The world was full of feelings. And he was soaking them all up. As he floated over a park, he drifted through happy shouts from children on a slide. The joy felt like fizzy bubbles inside him, and he puffed up with delight. But then, he drifted over a backyard where a little girl was crying. She had scraped her knee. Her sadness felt heavy and grey. It seeped into Nimbus and made his edges feel droopy. A little later, he passed over a busy street. A driver honked his horn, long and loud.

The angry feeling was spiky and hot, like a poke. All day long, the feelings kept coming. Happy bubbles, heavy sadness, and spiky anger all swirled together inside him. The rumble in his belly grew louder. He felt wobbly and full. He felt like he might burst. He was just one very small cloud. How could he hold all the big feelings of the whole world? Just as a tear-like drop was about to fall, a soft, silvery voice spoke. It was the Moon, peaking out from behind a taller cloud.

"Hello, little one," she said gently. "You look very full." Nimbus wobbled. "I am," he whispered. "I'm full of... everything. Happy and sad and prickly. It's too much." The Moon smiled a kind, crescent smile. "Those feelings are very big," she agreed. "But they are not all yours to keep. You can let them go." "How?" asked Nimbus. "You are a cloud," said the Moon. "You know how to make rain." Nimbus took a slow, cloudy breath. He thought about the heavy, grey sadness. He let it go in a few, soft drops that landed on a thirsty flower bed.

The little flowers seemed to stand up a little taller. Then he thought about the spiky, hot anger. He let it go in a quick, pattering shower over a dusty sidewalk, washing it clean. The tightness inside him loosened. Finally, he thought about the fizzy, happy bubbles. He let them fall as a light, sparkly sun-shower. Down below, a tiny rainbow appeared for just a moment. Nimbus felt light again. Not empty, but calm. He learned that he could feel with the world, without having to hold all its feelings inside him forever.

He could turn them into gentle rain, helping the world below feel a little better, too. And as he floated on, he was no longer rumbling. He was quiet, peaceful, and watching the last bit of his little rainbow fade.