English: Let The Wind Blow Wind turbines seen ...
English: Let The Wind Blow Wind turbines seen from the B1077. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I know it’s not a standard friendship, but really, what is? Friendship, amongst other things, takes many different forms, all of which equally valid. To claim otherwise is judgmental and wrong. So I don’t want you to laugh.

The Wind is my friend. I’m not a nut or a lonely guy imagining things. I got plenty of friends. I don’t even need any more, really — I mean, I wouldn’t turn anyone away or nothin’, but I’m not striking up conversations everywhere I go, either. And, well, I’m not in an asylum or anything — I don’t even see a therapist or have meds or anything.

Still, the Wind is my friend.

He talks to me.

It’s true — and I don’t mean just “OOOOO” or anything. Words, sentences, feelings, whatever. You name it. I don’t know why he doesn’t want to talk to anyone else, or if he does talk to anyone else. I’ve gotten enough looks to know, at least, it’s not just anybody. He’s got a low, stage-whisper sort of voice. He probably wouldn’t get a radio gig or anything, but it’s a perfectly normal voice. Other than that, it’s actually pretty indistinguishable from folks who aren’t the Wind.

The Wind’s basically a normal guy. Just a lot bigger than most folks and harder to see. But he likes basically the same things we all like. He likes the smell of barbecuing chicken and freshly baked bread. I don’t think he can really eat it, or would need to, but most of the sense of taste is in the odor anyway. I don’t think he’s really missing much.

And, no, I don’t think the Wind is God or anything — that’s just silly. I mean, sure, he sees a lot more than most people, just because he’s a lot bigger than most people, but there’s lots of stuff he doesn’t know. And he’s upfront about it — he doesn’t try to pretend. You ask him a question, he’ll either tell you what he thinks or flat out say he doesn’t know. And that’s cool. He’s not gonna steer you wrong. Unless he’s trying to play a joke on you or something. But that’s not a big deal, because he’s not very good at that — he usually giggles and tries hard not to laugh so you can usually tell. But don’t tell him I said that, it’d hurt his feelings. Sometimes I just play along, because he’ll always cop to it pretty soon, so it’s not like he’ll keep it going forever until it stops being funny and just gets irritating.

The Wind’s pretty considerate that way. I like him. I probably wouldn’t say he’s my best friend — we’re not super close or anything, but I definitely enjoy his company. He’s pretty cool.

And he’s always good for a twenty.

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