The Spirit of the Cloud looked down as the Sun was setting. Almost formless and not quite solid, only the Spirit’s eyes were visible. But upon where the Spirit’s back would be were what looked like many faces, perhaps dreams being brought in for the night’s entertainment for a random number of selected sleepers in the many homes below.
As the Sun sets, the Spirit’s image fades. The carried faces dissipate into the cooling night’s air, carried this time on the zephyrs of the incoming breeze, to be absorbed into the welcoming thoughts of those who slumber with open minds.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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