Westbound — Script
The wind takes the pieces. They do not fly east. They spiral down toward the water, then up again, caught in a rising thermal — westward, always westward, until they become indistinguishable from gulls.
The wind takes the pieces. They do not fly east. They spiral down toward the water, then up again, caught in a rising thermal — westward, always westward, until they become indistinguishable from gulls.