A door opened. Light came streaming into the night. A
yellowish glow divided the gloom of the night. The trail it
left on the dark ground was slowly widening. The opening
door let out a creaking sound, as of a crying child. Bit by
bit it conquered more and more ground. When finally it
stopped.
Suddenly the light disappeared. A great shadow was blocking
its source. The shadow was cloaked. A black cloak, black
boots, black shirt and pants. It was breathtaking. The
figure wasn't moving. One got the impression it was thinking
something over. Finally it moved away from the door shutting
it slowly. A gust of wind threw open the cloak. The figure
stopped and looked at the direction from which the wind was
coming. The figure appeared to wake, to arise from the dead.
Filling its lungs with the fresh sea air, the figure spread
its arms and relished the feeling of the wind speeding past.
Life. The whisper of nature murmured Life.
The figure looked up at the sky. A white moon was filling
the sky with its bliss. The glow touched his face. One could
see the blond hair cut short, the thick eyebrows, the
hardened face. The glint. The eyes glinted. Life was hard.
The once fair skin was hardened by worry; the once clear
eyes were soiled with sorrow. Only the glint. The hope.
His eyes closed, savoring the sensation. His only joy was in
silence, in nature. For a few minutes he stood motionless.
Shrugging, he moved again. He grabbed the cloak and started
at the direction of the river. His gait was strong. His face
was set. He hoped.

The sudden gust of wind carried her black hair with it. Its
wavy form livened the air. The moonlight made it glitter in
the complete darkness of the unlit street. She raised her
hand to it, but stopped it in midair and waited. She loved
the wailing of the wind. It engulfed her body making it feel
whole with nature. The wind caressed Her soul. Her body. Her
Self. She cherished the sensation. She knew wind. Wind was
life. Hope. Future. It brought devastation and bliss. It
brightened lives, and took them away. It was merciless and
forgiving. It caressed and it broke. It whispered and it
screamed. It was all.
Smiling she hugged herself to keep warm and headed for the
river. Her small body seemed to be one with the wind. It was
one with nature. It was so small and so fragile. The mercy
of the wind was all it had. Her head lifted high, her eyes
determined, she quickened her pace.

The time was late. The moon was full. The wind was strong.
Walking towards the water, struggling against the wind, he
hoped.
His strong frame cut through the wind as if it didn't exist.
He liked the wind. It was his pet. It was his love. It was
part of his life. He existed with it. It existed.
He saw the reflection of the moon on the waters. He was
near. Turning, he treaded along the narrow path. The water
was stormy. It was not calm. He looked at it mesmerized.

She saw a figure waiting at the river. The other bank was as
bad-lit as her own. She looked at the water. The reflection
of the moon in the waves pulled her eyes away from Him. She
was looking at the water.
Suddenly they both looked up. Their eyes met. They sparkled.
The water was reflecting a new light.
Minutes passed by. The wind weakened, and then finally
stopped. They felt it. Taken from their world, they turned
for home with more hope.