Writing Prompt #7: The Wind

Writing Prompt: You are the wind’s interpreter. What is it saying?

A warm, summer day. The market is busy with people moving back and forth buying and selling things. There are a group of musicians in the middle of the square. They play guitar and sing. They are amateurs but I like it. I’ve always liked music. One of the greatest things humans have ever made. Of course I have my own music.

I run my hand across some wind chimes hanging in a woman’s shop. They move and they make tinkling sounds.

A little girl and her mother stand together, holding hands. They stand beside the next vendor’s stand which sells produce. The little girl giggles and looks over at the wind chimes.

I smile at her. These little humans are so wonderful.

“Hi.” This little girl waved her hand.

I looked around. The wind chime maker was busy talking to two elderly women on the other side of her table. This little girl wasn’t talking to her. I looked the other way and no one else was in proximity. I turned back to her and she was still staring. She couldn’t be staring at me.

“Hello?” I lifted my hand and did a little wave. This moved her hair just a little.

She smiled. “You’re funny. What’s your name?”

“My…my name…” I whispered to myself. Did I have a name? I’ve never used it. People just called me the wind. I reengage with her. “I am the wind.”

The little girl’s eyes grew big. She turned and pulled on her mother’s dress. “Look mommy!”

The mother turned away from the produce and follower her daughter’s finger, but she couldn’t see me.

“What are you looking at, Sweetie?” She asked.

“The man. He’s right there.” The girl continued to point. “He’s the wind.”

The mom looked down at her daughter and gave her a smile. “Oh really, well tell him I say ‘Hi.’”

She turned back and continued looking at the fruits and veggies.

The little girl continued to stare at me and I stare back. I’d never had to be worried about being discovered. I had no idea what to do.

“Can you do that again?” She asked looking up towards the wind chimes.

I nodded at her still confused. I reached up and raked my hands across the chimes once more.

She giggles and her mother moves a step farther away from me. The girl moves with her.

“Are you hungry?” The little girl asked me.

“No. I never get hungry.”

“Everybody gets hungry.”

“I don’t. I never hunger.”

She tilted her head a bit, “You’ve never had a PBJ?”

I shook my head.

The mother finishes talking to the cashier and they exchange the money for the food. The mother turned back to her daughter. She must have thought this conversation was either cute or concerning.

“You still talking to the wind?”

“Yeah,” The little girl said. “He’s never had a PBJ.”


“Yeah. He says he never gets hungry.”

“Must be nice. Maybe you can learn from the wind.”

The woman smiled a little bit and then pulled her daughter along as she started walking away from the produce stand. They walked down the market street hand in hand, but the little girl kept turning around looking at me. She waved at me one last time.

I overheard the girl tell her mother, “I want a wind chime!”

I smiled and found myself confused. It’s a strange sensation to have someone notice you and then immediately leave.

I then turned my focus to the rest of the people at the farmer’s market. So many people with all walks of life all busy with their own lives. They did not notice the breeze rattling the products, blowing their hair, and moving their clothes. I spun around the breeze picked up rustling hair and clothes. They were too busy to really notice me but I didn’t care. I spun and spun. It was a freeing feeling.

I stopped spinning and the breeze calmed. Finally I moved back towards the wind chimes and gave them one more jostle before walking away.

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