Wind in Texas

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HRKW
HRKW
457 Followers

I was told once, by someone very wise, that wind makes some people nervous.

When I was young, I loved the wind. It was like the voice of God – if you knew how to listen to the world around you, you could hear him or her whispering secrets. It was never a direct conversation, and I always felt that that was what people could not seem to grasp. You couldn’t ask God a question and then wait for some all-mighty booming voice to say, “Now, Heather, that’s an interesting question...”. You had to listen to the trees. And the bamboo chimes. And the waves as they lapped onto the shore of the lake, forced there by the gale of a November wind.
That was how God spoke to us. At least, that was what I thought.

Until I moved to Texas.

Now the wind is not the voice of God. It is the scream of dead spirits, long forgotten and pissed off about it. It is the wail of phantoms done wrong, mourning souls and poltergeists left behind by the ticking of the second hand and gravity’s pull of sand through an hour glass.
In Texas, the wind does not whisper. It shrieks. And what it howls into the night are not secrets. They are eulogies, shouted to the heavens, roared and bellowed into the ears of those still walking on flesh-bound legs upon the surface of this planet.

Oh, mourn whatever pathetic soul could possibly make such a blasted sound.
And pray for peace tomorrow, lest we all lose our minds.
Because now wind makes me nervous.

HRKW
HRKW
457 Followers
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