I sat there on that park bench and let the wind surround me. I didn't hold my hair away from my face like I normally would have. Vanity suddenly didn't seem very important in that moment. I allowed my highlighted strands to cover my eyes and then eventually, nose. I was tired of resisting. It felt good to finally let go and allow something beyond my control engulf me for once. In between locks of hair, I saw a brown paper bag approaching me. It appeared to be stuck in its own wind tunnel, unaffected by the pattern of wind blowing everything else to the north. It was bobbing up and down as though it were dancing. Most people see beautiful feathers or leaves prancing in the open air. I see a brown paper bag. Laughing to myself, I watched it maneuver over to the table of businessmen next to me and lean up against the empty chair across from them. I wondered where the paper bag had come from and where it had begun its journey. I imagined that it was trying to find its way home.