It hit them like a smack in the face; or maybe more like a spank on the rump: The insult of being grouped with those high winds, made it hard to keep steady on the path. The wood creaked on the guard rails, and it all just seemed a bit unsafe. It was like walking the plank, a game that little kids play which was once an unfortunate pirate's death. A thankless job, one that took a certain type of man to complete. It was more of a puzzle.
She felt he was the last piece of blue in the sky, or maybe the missing piece of grass. Leaves of grass in fact.
"When I was very young, I admired hardened criminals locked behind prison doors; I visited inns and taverns they frequented; with their eyes, I saw the blue sky and the blossoming work of the fields; I tracked their scent through cities. They were more powerful than saints, more prudent than explorers — and they, they alone, were witnesses to glory and reason!"