All night long the wild wind has been blowing. I didn’t invite him in but he came none the less, buffeting the windows and trying to open the door of my bedrom like a living thing loose in the flat. His very sound brings a chill to my bones. Naked and small people huddle in their dwellings feeling the ancient fear of that which they can not control.
The carpet is soft and warm underfoot but the high wind still blusters outside. He is laughing at mankind’s pretentions to greatness. Civilisations come and go but the wild wind remains. Like an unpredictible person his moods alter, he can russle the trees gently swaying their leaves in a gentle dance as the summer sun slants through the branches but his anger remains deep coiled like a snake ready to spring.
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