After days and days, unrelenting days of the harsh playfulness of the wind, the storm had finally ended.

The roaring voices, the sweeping hands, the unforgiving temper of the tempest had reconciled with the gods, puffing and quivering in the wake of its wrath.

Quietness now lay pervaded, shimmering breathless, yet relieved, in the stretch of its aftermath. A newfound solitude of peace. It was the lull after the storm.

The windows were opened once more; letting the freshly whipped air suffuse the stale rooms, while birds found their way home to their branches, now stilled in motion against the brimming horizon.

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