The word ‘Curtain’ can go in any direction, bedroom curtain, hospital curtain, changing room curtain, curtaining yourself behind something, makeshift curtain (like getting changed after a swim at the beach). And that's not taking into account “curtaining” as a verb rather than an object. Personally, when I think of curtains, I think of when a breeze presses through them into a room so today - after reading Nardi Simpson's The Belburd - I decided to give the wind a personality as it swept through the room. Enjoy!

The wind licked through the sheer curtain gracefully slipping beneath its dancer's arc into the sleepy room. The fresh air coiled around the fan and dove to tickle at the edges of a heavy blanket. Hands encumbered by sleep grasped at the blanket's hem, drawing it in tighter while the wind danced in delight with the grumble that arose from the bed. The morning was greeted in many different ways and while the robust found their strength at dawn, the wild enjoyed playing with those nocturnal types, rousing them from their slumber.