Whispers of the Wind

Every evening, a soft wind passed through his window, carrying a girl’s whisper:

“Are you still there?” He thought it was his imagination… until one night the wind stopped

completely. The room fell silent— and a small, pale hand pressed against the inside

of the glass. A voice behind him whispered, “Finally… you can hear me without

the wind.” When he turned around, the window was wide open— and the handprint

was on his pillow.