The wind was not having a good day. First there had been an argument with Rain at breakfast. Blooming Rain, eating his Jam Collection. Then, out of nowhere, straight in the kisser, a gnat cloud of secrets! Furtive little blighters, getting tangled in his hair, sitting in his ear and whispering their cryptic messages.
‘Guess what’ purred a juicy little secret, ‘Now don’t tell a soul, but.................’
Tracey Long