Wind in our Sails
by Lewis Sellers on November 3rd, 1991
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Wind in our Sails
[Nov 3 ’91]
There was no plot. There was no plan. Faces waiting stared out in stillness from the long drawn darkness.
“What is wind?” someone asked.
“A cool essence, invisible, that caresses me when I’m alone,” was the sweet exuberant response.
“Oh,” someone replied, with a hushed of-course-I-should-have-known-that tone.
There was wind.
“Thank you,” the soft voice whispered, melting like liquid into faint furling echoes of the sweeping, nearly silent wind.
“You are welcome!” he smiled, basking in the wind. “And, by the way – you are not alone.”
After a while, however, the constant wind began to chill him. By then he knew he was quite alone.
Categories: Prose
