As the plane climbed higher the clouds contracted as they shrouded the earth below, a reminder that the sun was a constant in spite of the vagaries of weather and the spin of the planet. Elektra tried to apply this concept to the deepest part of her own soul, that her thoughts were merely passing clouds that blocked an internal, permanent light. She wanted to believe it. Swami did, Eugénie did, but Elektra could never seem to get past thoughts that colluded to form a dark, thick barricade. In fact, she’d had a hard time believing in a ‘soul’ anyway, and though she liked the idea of it, she wondered if hers had given up and left the building.
In this melancholic state that she had accepted as being her default setting, Elektra considered the possible future that awaited her. Though she had
