Sara’s dog spent four years living in a cloud that was on fire. He rented it for cheap, because it was on fire. The landlord was a terrible, boring jazz band and Sara’s dog paid rent by making himself vomit monthly in the landlord’s trumpet. The cloud was a small, dirty one and Sara’s dog did experiments to try and make himself glow bright enough to be seen through the cloud and the fire when he was at home. He never knew how well they turned out because he didn’t have a friend to watch from outside and report back. I always wanted to tell him how beautifully he glowed.