
“Looking pretty miffed there,” said Cloud.
“I am not sure what I am,” sighed Hydra. “Frustrated.”
“Ah,” replied Cloud. “An identity crisis. I get them a lot.”
“How come?” asked Hydra
“Imagine this,” said Cloud. “Every time a human looks at the clouds above and sees a shape in a cloud, a baby, a plane, a giraffe or the face of God, another of me appears in the land in-between.”
“How many of you are there?” asked Hydra.
“Last count,” sighed Cloud, “about three hundred billion.”
“Good grief,” exclaimed Hydra. “I bet that makes accepting party invites awkward.”











