Nora confronted the neon cloud that followed her home from her walk. "What do you want from me?" she asked the hovering blue gaseousness.

"I long to be your aura," it hissed at Nora, who backed away into the corner. There was something cold about its color.

"I-I don't know," she spoke through the shiver spasming down her spine.

"Oh, but you don't know my powers. With me in your eyes, men will be at your feet. They will marvel for hours at the mysteries of your smile. They'll thrill at the surge of feeling when you look their way."

Nora listened.

"And when your lips touch another's I'll make sure it's felt."

"Men will be at my feet?" Nora inquired tentatively.

"Absolutely. Artists will see you and form masterpieces out of the impressions. You'll linger in the minds of poets weaving new words together in your wake."

"That all sounds good," Nora said, softening her front of resistance, "But what about the aura I have now?"

The neon cloud blushed blue. "Your aura is kind of cute," it said, "I was hoping to get to know it."

Story #306