Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 31-01-2013

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Matt sat in the living room with the lights off, listening to the wind howl. A storm was building inside as well. He knew that something had to change in his life, but he didn’t know where to start – he felt less bright, less interesting, less … capable than ever before. A large branch from a nearby oak landed on the roof; Matt heard it hit and slide off into the backyard. “The problem with wind – with all forces of change,” his Aunt June used to say, “is control.”

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