I lay in bed, breathing deeply, hoping it would distract me from my excruciating headache. Pieces of the only food I had an actual craving for floated in a bucket of vomit by my bedside.
“God, why me?” I whimpered.
A strong wind forced the curtains away from my window and over my body. It traveled from my feet to my ears. It whispered dominantly, “Why only acknowledge me when you think I've wronged you?”
It could have been God speaking, though more likely it was my own guilt.
Either way, the wind has a beautiful voice.