What is it with the wind? The howling around my windows grates on my last nerve. I keep looking out the window, watching the sky, the gulls fighting to stay in the air, the crashing waves on the ebbing tide, as if I expect something terrible to blow this way. But what? I couldn’t say.
It’s a warm day here, sunshine, a bit hazy, but I had to close the windows because the wind was driving me crazy. The flapping curtains threatened to snap right off the rod. Incessant wind chimes aren’t soothing. At times it felt like the whole picture window would be blown back into my apartment. So I shut the windows. But still there’s the wind. And I don’t like it.