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The Girl Who Knew the Wind
She knew the wind.
It wasn’t one of those things that she made up. And while of course, there was plenty of that, this time, she meant it.
She could feel the wind as if it was part of her. Often she would leave, just to sense it, and she would stand at the clifftop for hours, just letting the wind caress her hair and cheek.
Sometimes the wind was joyful. Those were lovely days. They would run together, picking golden grapes under the cooling sun, and the wind would yell in a crisp voice and wrap her long gauzy wings about her. They were sisters on days like those.
Other times she was angry. Those nights were less pleasant, but there was something about the raw power of the wind that convinced the...
It wasn’t one of those things that she made up. And while of course, there was plenty of that, this time, she meant it.
She could feel the wind as if it was part of her. Often she would leave, just to sense it, and she would stand at the clifftop for hours, just letting the wind caress her hair and cheek.
Sometimes the wind was joyful. Those were lovely days. They would run together, picking golden grapes under the cooling sun, and the wind would yell in a crisp voice and wrap her long gauzy wings about her. They were sisters on days like those.
Other times she was angry. Those nights were less pleasant, but there was something about the raw power of the wind that convinced the...
