The wind blew fine, powdery snow into swirling eddies of white. It flowed through the streets, around cars and houses, depositing it’s absence of colour everywhere. Erasing all form. Imposing it’s chaos upon the surfaces of order.
The wind blew it’s angry voices into a howling choir of screams. It filled the air with a wall of sound, rising and falling, but never abating. It dominated all frequencies and wiped out all other audio at the source.
The wind blew and batted people around like pinballs. It bumped them between cars and sent them sailing down streets until each had disappeared down their respective holes. It laughed at their feeble attempts at industry, and pounded it’s truth into their arrogant little minds.
The wind blew.
