While the citizens were warming their hearts with the wind’s news,
it would start the windmills, sweep the dust off the narrow streets, and spread the aromas of summer flowers.
It would answer all the people’s questions about their friends and relatives, tell them tales of
other worlds, simply finding the right words from what it had heard. Having turned the city around,
it would run on, leaving the trail of unfinished phrases and somebody’s songs.
