Blythe: Chapter 17

The World Turned Upside Down

Upside down the raven flew.  Down and up its wings beat; down, then
up.

It flashed across a tiny vision of
the world, and then disappeared.

All that remained to look down upon
were dark and threatening clouds that took on the appearance of firmament.  Even their stormy, mossy tint spoke more of
land than of air.  Tapped out, these
mountains of the sky shifted restlessly as they eroded, evaporating into
nothingness.  Their collective mass
withered in a morning into scattered patches that no longer blocked the
sun.  These stragglers faded until one
emaciated remnant fought to remain, but it too was disappearing.

In a desperate measure to survive,
placing its faith in an ancient promise that what dies will one day rise again,
the vapor condensed into a single raindrop and began to rise, unseen, toward
the earth.  For a brilliant moment, the
light caught the ascending dot and transformed it into a streak of light that
came closer and closer until it struck the surface of the puddle from which the
world had been viewed, and obscured the once-clear inverted heavenly vision.

Everything that was known was gone.

All
waited for the surface to settle, so the world could start anew.