Over to Roger for our challenge this week:
No-one in the tribe had seen the like before, yet the White Man had said his magic bottle housed hundreds.
All eyes looked skyward, watching fascinated as it collected rainbows in its wake.
Some thought it a miracle, a catcher of departed souls, transportation to the next life.
Children laughed as it drifted above them, pointing fingers as it made its way towards the trees.
It changed shape on the wind, distorting the clouds but passing otherwise gently on its way.
Would this be the one to break through the barrier and beyond?
It was not to be, a sharp twig punctured the defining line, and in a blink it was gone.
Everyone looked back towards the White Man, begging him to set free another.