“It was not a windy day, my hair always looks like that.”
“I like to hang out clothes on windy days. Sometimes that's all I feel like. A sheet on a line.”
“It kind of scares me though, to keep wearing it every day like I do. What happens when I run out of it? Will I forget what she looked like? What it looked like when the sun reflected on her hair? The way her pillow always smelled like her? Will my memory of her run out too?”
“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.”
“Your hair is like butterflies,” Sebastian said, giggling like a child.“That’s nice,” Firen said impatiently. “Keep moving.”“Fantastic. I always like my days better with a touch of insanity,” Gabriella quipped.”
“Will Mars be always in your windy tongue and in your flying feet?”