So I was sitting outside by my friend's grave -a long time ago- and it was a still day. There was not a single wisp of wind upon those beams of sunlight shining down. Yet, when I was talking to that little piece of a plastic sign -they call a gravestone- his pinwheel started to spin -spinning a lullaby just for me- and I felt a chill; not a bad chill that you get in the deathening night of cold winters. No! This chill was a breeze - as if I was walking among the beach at the end of the summer; waves crashing. I could hear waves in my head... I could smell the salt off of beach water... My very eyes were wondering upon sun set colours of the purest reds, loneliest oranges... And my body was in a trance. It was a split second of a life so dragged on yet it felt like forever in a life so short lived. Now, when you walk in my room the first thing you see is a pinwheel.