A Word From The Wind
I'm just this guy, you know?
To expand on that, I am also the following...
- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)
- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch
- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes
- Always too hard on myself
The wind flowed around the street seeking a place safe from the elements, not realizing it was one.
It didn't want to disturb life on the Nepali street in which it currently existed.
It had seen so many things in its vast life. It had existed as long as it could remember, which it supposed was true for most things, actually.
So many new faces were in the small Nepali town today. Most were foreign but some felt as if they were old friends.
The wind wondered if they realized it was the same wind from a day before or even the day before that, but it didn't dwell to long on such thoughts as it felt attachments at this stage in its existence were futile and would end in heartache.
So many great figures in history, it thought. So many faces in the annals of time that it has blown across.
It was an infinite being. It couldn't remember a time it didn't exist, but again, it felt that was true for most things with the power of thought.
It wondered "what great face will I blow on today,"
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
The spirit of the wind...
- #2621 Posted 4 years ago
I was thinking about the wind touching people and never acknowledged. Kinda sad, and kinda creepy. It's lonely, but all that touching.. I think it has come to terms with this, though, and accepted its fate.
- #2633 Posted 4 years ago
Author's prompt text:
- Published 4 years ago.
- Story viewed 7 times and rated 0 times.
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