Rain tapped on the window, tip-tap, tip-tap, so Kai decided to build the biggest blanket fort ever, right there in the living room.
He stacked pillows. He draped the soft blue blanket over two chairs. He tucked in the corners just so. But when he reached for the last pillow, the whole fort went whoosh and folded down flat.
Kai's face went hot. His hands squeezed into fists. Something big and grumbly was growing right in the middle of his chest, like a cloud getting darker and darker.
"Oh," said Kai's grown-up, sitting down close. "That looks like a big feeling. What does it feel like inside?"
Kai thought about it. "It feels like... a grumbly cloud. Right here." He patted his own chest.
"Hello, Grumbly Cloud," said the grown-up softly. "You can say hello to it too."
"Hello, Grumbly Cloud," Kai whispered. It felt a little bit silly, and the silly made him almost smile.
They breathed together, slow and big, like blowing on warm soup. In through the nose — sniiiff. Out through the mouth — whooosh. Kai breathed again. Sniiiff. Whooosh.
And the grumbly cloud, the one sitting so heavy in his chest, seemed to get smaller. Not gone all at once — just a little smaller, like a puddle drying up in the sun.
"It's shrinking," Kai said, surprised.
"Clouds do that," said the grown-up. "Especially ones with names."
Kai looked at the flat, floppy fort. It wasn't ruined — just resting. He picked up the blanket corner again, and this time he tucked it under the couch cushion instead, nice and snug. Up went the fort, wobbly but standing.
Inside the fort, Kai lay back on the pillows and listened to the rain going tip-tap, tip-tap on the window, softer now, like the whole sky was breathing too.
The grumbly cloud was just a little gray wisp now, small enough to fit in his pocket, small enough to float away while his eyes grew heavy, heavy, and closed.