PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
Zing sighed, shaking his head at the strange sight. He knew they were called umbrellas, but he didn’t understand why the were way up there when all the people were way down here, and it wasn’t even raining. His logical mind could make no sense of it.
Zang on the other hand, was entranced. “It’s just for pretty, Zing. It’s nice to look at. Like flowers floating down from the sky; like children’s lollipops in the sky; like a bouquet of flowers floating overhead.” He loved the colors.
“It’s not practical. It’s just pretty,” Zang said.