The wind was blowing, gusting and pulling, carrying leaves and papers and the occasional inverted umbrella. People on the street leaned into it whenever the air pushed hardest, entire groups moving like a dance troupe choreographed to the howling. It was days like this when Daniel wished he could just unfurl his wings, and let the wild air carry him up into the sky as well.

Instead, he raised his face to the scudding clouds, letting the wind flutter his eyelashes, and pull through his long brown hair. He resisted the urge to sigh, and dragged his gaze back to the sidewalk. There would be other windy days.

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