Soaring like a bird, flying through the clear skies, the bubble floats with its friends. There are children playing, laughter is heard. The bubble lists lazily in the air, flying far. One of the children pokes it, it pops. It is no more. The children blow more of the colorful spheres, setting them off into the sky, waiting to be destroyed again. It’s the creation of something and the end of something that makes the children so fascinated. More bubbles fly. More pop. One drifts in the breeze, catching itself onto another bubble, making a deformed bubble. It floats down and hits the ground, popping as it hits. They clump together, the clusters of bubbles hitting the ground from being heavy. It’s like life. Many are created; some do their own thing while others stay together and form a bond. The popping represents sickness and death. The children represent the creators, making more life to be.
Yeah, so that's a little thing from a thing I wrote for a thing. Spheal with it. I thought it was cute, I think. What do you think about it, what could be better or what?
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