Sunny, breezy morning. As the woman waits to cross West Burnside at NW 21st Avenue, the breeze swirls around her head, lifts strands of her hair. The lavender umbrella makes a bit of shade, enough to satisfy her. Is she worried that her umbrella will be blown inside out?
She crosses the street and continues south on SW 21st Avenue, every glistening hair in place, no evidence of the breeze left behind. Intact, the umbrella still functions.
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