The village woke up slowly that morning —
just like every other morning.
But something was different.
Nobody noticed it...
except her.
The wind carried a softness in its breath —
as if it was holding back a secret.
The sea was quieter too...
like it was waiting for someone to finally listen.
---
The girl walked down the narrow path between the trees,
her bare feet brushing against damp earth.
In her notebook, there was still only one letter —
the one she had written to the wind.
She thought no one had ever answered.
But deep down...
she wondered if maybe, just maybe —
some answers don't come in words...
but in the way the leaves move
or how the waves suddenly change their rhythm.
---
By the time she reached the sea, the feather from yesterday was still tucked between the pages of her book.
A small promise between her and the wind —
that someone out there was listening.