Breeze

I sighed happily, caressing trees as their leaves glowed that particularly beautiful colour caused by the sunlight filtering through. They were photosynthesising, I knew, an yet somehow it did not matter to me what they were doing. I felt a bird slicing through me, moving faster, soaring. The it snapped open its wings and I obliged with a warm updraft, sending the tiny creature higher. I sang and twirled as I passed my friend, Aqua. She was in a hurry, racing down to gather in the still calm at the bottom of the hill. She giggled in reply and I danced onwards, tossing people’s hair around their heads gleefully, watching as some people ignored me, others grew angry and held their hair back and one, lone girl stopped walking, stretched her arms out wide and closed her eyes to my embrace. I swirled around her, picking up leaves and making them dance for her. She laughed, and skipped away, so I moved on again. I wove through a jungle of buildings, fingers caressing the rough concrete as I ran. A man leaned against a building and sobbed into his hands. My heart ached for him, and so I slunk over and gently stroked his shoulder as I passed. Ahead I saw clear, churning blue and I eagerly darted ahead. The sea! I howled with excitement and bolted towards the water. There I gathered myself, and I let thrashed the waves, cultivated good surf for the little people on their flat pieces of foam. I danced and ran and frolicked, joy overcoming me as I tumbled over the water. “Aqua!” I roared happily, “Hello again!” she responded with a wave, curling perfectly into a tube that sent men down to her sandy bottom. An idea struck me, and I posed it to Aqua, who flicked a watery hand in agreement. She called out to Solar, and he focused his energy to helping us, heating and cooling us even as we worked to swirl and churn and cause some beautiful chaos. We roared with laughter, running and jumping together. People screamed and ran. Why must they do that? We only want to have fun, yet they fear us. ‘Cyclone,’ they say, ‘Stay in your homes’ they say. It’s no fair. We just want to play! We ran now, not out of fun, but rage. How dare they treat us so? We just want to have fun. Well. “Aqua, Solar. Call Terra. Let’s have some real fun.” I murmur, forgetting all about the skipping girl and the crying man. They’ll rue the day they hated Vento.