They said that the breeze had a salty taste about it. But of course it would, given that it was blowing from the sea. It knew no conventions, or perhaps it was aware of the fact that adhering to conventions never got you anything. After all, it had to chart its own way through. So it blew, and brought along all that crossed its path.
It was the wind beneath the wings of melancholy birds. It was the breeze that made happy flags flutter. It was the reason behind ruffled feathers and tousled hair.
And then the happy wind descended on the dreary plain. A plain so plain, that it was almost mundane. A plain so bland, that it had no taste for salt. And the breeze blended in like it had never known what a tempest was.
Have you ever heard of a breeze that changed its path?