For today the wind blows, and change is in the air.
I stood in the outfield of a public softball park, tilting my head into the bill of my hat. As ballplayers trotted the base paths and stirred the ground, the wind carried the chalky red dirt in all directions. Everyone submitted, even the hardened and weary. It was a howling and circular wind bent on passion and fury.
By the time I made it home, I was so hungry that I'd forgotten to shower or wash until much later into the night. I stood over the bathroom sink, a small basin of white porcelain that sits in front of a large rectangular mirror. I cupped my hands together, lapping cold water on my face. The sink turned dark orange, almost the color of an over ripened peach, sending the blood stained water swirling round and then down.
Something felt a little off from the moment the day began. Last night I sent out a beckoning call for clarity and reason, for having felt their absence I had nowhere else to turn. It's apparent to me that this universe works in strange and mysterious ways, indeed.
I had just fixed a cup of tea. In the front room of my quaint yet predictable apartment there sits a sliding glass door that opens to a southern view, exposing the tops of two young saplings and the roofs of the three remaining houses on the block.
Retribution bit through the air. I heard screaming from the television, forcing me to move quickly to shut it off.
All at once, my bedroom door was blown shut. Boom! Then the screeching of the shower curtain rings sliding across their fixture from our second bathroom, indicating only that my roommate had just slid into a warm towel yet offering me no relief.
It was the timing that frightened me more.
I looked outside to the southern sky and saw nothing but the blur of green leaves dancing violently to the rhythm of the westerly gusts against the darkened sky.
Retreating to my room, I shut the door. The wind beat steadily against my window, for it wouldn't be stopped. It couldn't be. And then I heard it, that howl, blowing and whistling through the ducts of our building and out the small vent on the ceiling above me.