I always imagined standing on clouds, how solid and strange it would be, like Mary Poppins.
"Clouds are made of condensed water vapor," my droning science teachers always said.
My hand would shoot up. "But has anyone ever tried to stand on one, just to see?"
Science teachers were consistently the best eye-rollers of all humankind. "Darling, you would fall right through one. You can't stand on steam. We fly through them in planes every day." The same answers, always: I crossed my arms and refused to believe.
So, I graduated from high school, got my hot air ballooner's license, and took to the skies. To spite all my past advisors.
I climbed into the basket, pulled the cords, and rose into a cloudless sky. Then I waited, dangling in my bright red balloon, waiting for the sky to push the clouds to me. I was soon rewarded with a mountain fast approaching from the east. The wind blew brisk and thin upon my gleeful face. My moment had finally come.
Swinging my leg over the side, I watched the highest peak cresting towards me. And then I stepped out. And fell 10,000 feet into the sea.