Perhaps the angel of history has his face turned toward the past. He would like to stay there long enough to preserve each artifact, but a new storm blowing in gets caught in his wings with such intensity that he can no longer close them.
Maybe this storm propels him into a future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. Knowing that the once-living wood is what allows the leaves and roots of the tree to reach so high and draw so deep, like Scheherazade, he must adopt a creative strategy for saving the kingdom.
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