Once upon a time there was a girl who loved to bathe. She would clean herself numerous times a day. When asked why she was so obsessed with being clean, she would simply answer "because it makes me feel light." The girl would often climb on to her roof and feel the wind tug at her and lure her towards the edge, but she was never afraid of falling. The girl loved the wind... No, she envied it. Every scent the wind brought with it entertained her curious mind, as did every cool breeze and gentle gust. The wind is free to travel wherever it pleased, it could not be touched yet it could touch whatever it wished to. Such a romantic life the wind leads. Whenever the girl felt light, she felt as though she was closer to being taken by the wind, swept away to anywhere and nowhere. But as time went on the girl fell ill, and gradually felt a heaviness that no amount of bathing could wash away until she was weighed down, confined to her bed. The girl knew she had little time left on the earth, and spent her days listening for the wind until one night she felt as though it beckoned to her. With every ounce of strength the girl had left, she hauled her frail body out on to the roof and once again felt the weight lifting magic of her wind. It pulled her towards the edge but the girl no longer resisted, she had neither the strength nor the will. As the girl's feet lost their ground, she broke into a million ribbon like pieces that floated away and disappeared into the wind, leaving only a limp, lifeless body on the ground below.