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Glowing lanterns reflected pools of light onto the marble floor. The night was cool, enchanting. The wind twirled the violet gossamer curtains with its fingers. Music and revelry could be heard all around the mansion as the celebration heightened. Suddenly the music, the noise, everything stopped. A regal looking man stood at the top of the steps as the nobles looked up in anticipation.
"Welcome, all. I've invited you here in celebration of the wealth, the prosperity we have enjoyed."
Applause arose and stated the crowd's approval.
"I plan to continue the celebration not for half a night," he paused and let the silence settle in, "but half a year!"
The crowd erupted, the music commenced, and any thought of duty and concern was carried off with the playful wind to be mixed with the dust of the desert."
But there were people, in other places not so far away who were not so festive. The king had failed to give a thought to those who were oppressed. And to some that wind was not so sweet, but cold and harsh and cruel. The wind that graced the marble halls also carried the worries of the rich to the dusty doorstep of the poor.
