it was so calm we didn't even realize we were over our heads until it was over us. and even then we didn't care. we were completely focused on the moment that the parts not visible were simply not there. like a child who can not think outside of the crib we giggled and traced the ridges of the clouds with our finger tips. young artists in a museum of aged and ageless paintings. maybe it was just a feeble attempt to take credit for the art that was carving its way through the sky. maybe it was ours to begin with.