Marge and Balthazar are at their cloud watching spot staring up at the sky. Marge has her legs in the air moving them like she is riding an imaginary bike. What are you doing? asks Balthazar — Riding an imaginary bike —Why? You have a real bike right over there. — I don’t know, maybe I am imagining riding a cloud, wouldn’t that be so cool Balthazar, if we could ride a cloud like a bike? — Balthazar starts to imagine all kinds of possibilities. Not me Marge, I would rather have a pet cloud — a pet cloud? — yes and I would name her Cloudette and we could all hang out together and she could sleep above us when its really hot in the summer and give us shade, and she could throw lightning bolts at the skater kids at the bus stop, and if you had a pet cloud you could tell it all your secrets and she might even cry with you and maybe she could hitch a ride with the wind and see if she could find my mother. They both lie there under the fat clouds that are floating over so slow it’s like a cloud circus pitching up tents for the big show. After lying there for a while, Marge turns her head and looks at Balthazar — You know, I think I’d rather just have a cloud bicycle.