The wind howled consistently. The wind chimes that had once hung peacefully by the edges on the doors and windows, occasionally being pushed around by gusts of wind, wailed loudly. The wooden shutter flipped across the window, depriving for mere seconds the window of its veil, creating a rattling sound as it came flurrying down, clashing its wooden lower edge with the hood of the window. The leaves swayed almost perpetually, their stems strenuously trying hard to grip them tightly, as the branches flapped and clashed and struggled violently with the resolute winds. Anything and everything that could feel it, shuddered and shivered.
And then, it went silent.
The wind chimes sealed their lips nearly uniformly. The wooden shutter stood still, at peace within itself. The leaves sighed, the stems loosened their grips, and the branches froze almost as if they had been cutoff in one fell swoop. The wind died down, almost deafening the restlessness of the night. Not a sound that could be heard, save for the tapping of keys being touched almost softly by quivering fingers, the sounds from which echoed in the room profoundly.
I pulled back my fingers and closed my eyes.
And in that serenity, I could almost sense another heart beating somewhere close.