The Struggle

I woke up to a loud crash. Assuming George tried to eat the bamboo and in turn, tipped over the vase, I sat for a second. Nothing. No scampering of tiny feet , no rocks hitting the floor. Choosing to err on the side of caution, I pulled myself out of bed only to discover no such thing. To confirm my findings, I put my glasses on and retraced my steps. Nothing had fallen. Nothing was out of place.
And as I looked up instinctually to realize it was most likely a mess my upstairs neighbor had made, I saw a perfect part in the sky. Half the sky was swirling with grey cumulus clouds and the other half was as clear as a summer's day. For the next twenty minutes I watched the struggle; cheering for the blue. But typical to the beginning of any good story, the grey overtook the crisp, clear sky and reminded me of my location.