In The Wind Book Novels & Stories

Lilith sat cross-legged on her bed, engrossed in the pages of a captivating book. Her face was buried within its depths as she lost herself in the world of words. The room was quiet, save for the rustling of pages and the occasional sound of her breath. Suddenly, a gust of wind whistled through the room, causing the curtains to billow and dance. Lith looked up, her eyes widening in surprise, as the window that had always been locked swung open with a creak. The wind seemed to beckon her, inviting her to embrace the unknown that lay beyond.

I wanted it so bad. The pages started to move on their own, flipping like a breeze was blowing through. But the windows were shut tight. A cool wind picked up anyway, messing my brown hair and chilling my neck. I stepped back, my breath coming quick. From the pirate book, a swirl of gray smoke rose up, thick and salty-smelling.

Before going to bed, I took my diary and wrote down a quote from Lise Kiberwa's poetry collection called "Wind", Completely for no reason at all!: >>Like the wind, I don't want to belong anywhere. Just like the wind, I want to be felt but not seen. Like the wind, I want to both strengthen and extinguish the wildfire. Like the wind, I want to stress some poor old lady gently sweeping her compound by bringing all the dirt she's been removing.

Intrigued, I gently pulled the book from its resting spot and dusted off its faded cover. As I opened the book, a faint scent of old parchment mingled with the musty air, creating an atmosphere that spoke of forgotten wisdom. The pages were yellowed and brittle, telling tales of countless hands that had turned them before mine. I began to read. “The Winds of Change,” it began, “are the invisible forces that shape our destinies. They whisper in our ears when we least expect it, urging us to question, to explore, and to forge our paths. When tradition meets resistance, the Winds of Change stir, seeking brave souls who will challenge the existing state of affairs.”

The ground shook as the book opened itself shaking off it's possessor with a strong wind The roof of the house creaked from the force of the wind She looked on amazed at the events unfolding before her the home she had for 10 years turned to chaos by the wind coming off from the book yet she could not stop looking at it ‘A..l..ice!!!!!' Her dad screamed.

Gemma let herself inhale deeply, savoring the moment, the delicate tension, the infinite possibilities. And somewhere, in the hum of the cicadas, the creak of the porch boards, and the gentle stir of the wind, Gemma whispered to her self, a quiet, reverent acknowledgment of what the night had become: “This is where the summer wind blows.”

She's become the model of a well-behaved heiress! My brother looked relieved. "Well done. It's good she's obedient. Sending her to the countryside was not in vain." The village chief's son brought me forward. The cold wind cut me to the bone. I was wearing only a thin long-sleeve shirt and pants. The loose fabric whipped in the wind, revealing my frail, skeletal frame. Seth frowned, reaching out to take my hand. I shivered slightly and bowed deeply to him with utmost respect. "Hello, Seth."

He looks up at the ceiling and asks, “Why, Miles? What drove you to do it?” The drugs are pulling me back down into the dark and my voice sounds like someone else’s when I answer: “Poison prayer got stuck in my mind, like a bad seed caught in a wheel . . . dropped here and took root.” Joe snaps his fingers near my closed eyes. I’m falling through drops of flame. “Miles. You’re not making sense. What made you do it?” “Snow in my bones . . . beast in my blood . . . wind in my heart.”

This wasn’t like the movies, this was fucking reality and I might end up shooting myself in the face, or worse — end up mistakenly shooting Chris, if I tried using a gun in a situation like this, for the first time. The ground suddenly vibrated as a loud, ear-shattering sound went off, leaving my mouth hanging open and my heart jumping into my mouth in fright. My ears rang loudly for long seconds as I struggled to get a firm grip on my surroundings. The ground still rumbled and the air smelled of sulfur. Like I just stepped into hell. My mind grasped onto the tiny thread of thoughts that made sense now, wasn't that the bomb that Chris and I abandoned? What the fuck did I unknowingly get myse

It’s so cool to be on this side of it. I close my eyes and lean back into him, this is real magic. Being able to share this part of me with him, with all of them. I can feel the wind playing, like he said, but it’s not ready to subside yet. I never thought about the elements having emotions, but if I had to place an emotion or personality on the wind, I would match it with Dakota. Playful and warm on a good day, lightly caressing the skin, but harsh and erratic when angered. My eyes fly open.