The unhinged door rattled and fell. They jumped in their skins where they lay naked on their bed. They looked at the door and laughed. It was their wedding night.
The groom stood and placed the door back in the yawning space.
He returned to the bride, held her nipple in his mouth and chuckled.
“Maybe we should have fixed it?” She said.
“No. Our being together is more important than fixing the door.”
“Maybe we could have fixed it and still be together?” He looked up, his mouth suckling and winked at her.
She laughed with him and relaxed her body. They entered the torn blanket on top the near-the-floor bed and clung on to themselves.
The wind blew from the north, slamming the things in its way. The cloud, its lover, had left it. Rage burned in it as it tore through things.
People rushed to close their windows, protecting their heads from being cut off by the angry wind that carried everything it could in its way.
The wind blew blindly on, searching through the smallest crevices, then stopped in its tracks when it saw them.
Lovers! Lovers! It fumed, and twirled strongly in. There was no hindrance. The door was loose. The wind chortled mischievously and crashed down the closure, settling on the lovers who shivered dangerously as they tried to get the most warmth from their bodies.
By morning, two naked bodies were found, teeth bared, on the near-the-floor bed.