She could hear the voices of the dead.
Everyone in the village knows it.
The girl in the well has been calling "mother" for ten years, but no one dares to answer.
The soldiers on the battlefield shouted "go home" a hundred times, but no one dared to recognize them.
It was just her, squatting down and listening.
Everyone knows it, but doesn't say it. She said it.
So she is both a sinner and a substitute.
When needed, knock on her window in the middle of the night.
When you don't need it, pretend not to know him during the day.
There is one exception.
A soldier from out of town was sitting not far away basking in the sun. Hearing what she said, he smiled:
"You can hear the dead, I can hear you, it's even."
That was the only moment in her life when she was heard.
What happened next?
Then the wind kept blowing.
She was in the wind, waiting for a sound.
This is a story about waiting. After waiting for sixty years, have you waited?
You have to ask the wind.
Concept: The neglected truth that escapes