Originally hosted on https://illoria.wixsite.com/annamittower/anthology-of-speculative-scribbles
Purple clouds colored the light as the blue balloon soared through them. The man flying the balloon could only watch with wonder as they floated past. He'd heard that the upper levels of the sky contained a rainbow of clouds that changed color depending on the weather, but, until now, no one had been able to prove it. However, he would change that and stay aloft for as long as his balloon would carry him.
For days on end, he drifted along the air currents, not really paying attention to where he was going, but instead following the colors. He saw every color of the rainbow aside from one: yellow. He hadn't been able to find any rumors or stories of what would cause yellow clouds, only that it was dangerous. But, he lived for danger. However, he was running out of time and would have to leave the glorious sky soon. For he couldn't survive past the end of his food and water supply, and the end was too near for his liking.
He pressed on, trying to find the elusive yellow, but he never succeeded. Finally, he came to terms with the facts. His food would run out in the next few days. He must abandon his search and land. Disappointed, he began strapping down his belongings for the long ride down. He was on the point of breaking through the bottom of the clouds when the air currents changed from a quiet lazy river into a raging tempest.
They snatched his balloon straight up in the air and it was all he could do to not fall out of the basket. The clouds darkened around him to an angry midnight blue and they refused to let go of him and his balloon, even when he attempted to release air in order to descend. He gave up and strapped himself in for the ride, glad that he'd already lashed down all his belongings. He ate the last of his food as the storm tossed him even higher up.
At last he broke through to the top of the clouds, higher than he'd ever flown. The wispy clouds around him changed instantly into a light red and he managed to halt his ascent. Danger lay in going too high and he could already feel his head becoming light. Before he could command a descent, the red surrounding him morphed into a sickly yellow green which took hold of his balloon and forced him straight down through the storm in a shaft of yellow light. Barely ten seconds after breaking through the bottom of the clouds, he saw land and trees below, rushing up to greet him. But he couldn't control his balloon now. The yellow still had ahold of it and it pushed him towards the ground with frightening speed.
A terrible crashing sound filled his ears as the trees grew into their proper sizes and he knew nothing more.
Much later on, he opened his eyes to once again see faint purple clouds above him through the tears and rips in his balloon. The clouds beckoned him to journey in them once more, but he was wiser now and wouldn't give in to their temptation. He packed up his surviving belongings and notes, struggled out of the ruins of his balloon, and carefully climbed down the tree from which his balloon hung, a limp imitation of its former self. No more would it soar in the sky, taking him to places he'd never been. Now it would hang there as a warning to those who might venture into the untamed skies.