00:37

There is a tapping at my window. At first, i think it to be a ghostly vizard commanding my attention with long, crooked fingers waving, greeting me as an old friend. The more i stare, the more i am unnerved, but as the wind eases, the tapping eases too, and the storm of my thoughts settles. Provoked by the frightful breeze, you are but a humble tree.