It came knocking. Gently picking its way with a little exchange ; rising like wisps  disentangled from stream of mundane, winding it's way waif like in conversations mingled with garlicky scents , lips touching the fluted rims, smiles knowingly  transferring to lips forming Os , fluttering into alleys, at intersections conferring ,before yellow turns to green.  Pausing perforated with a poke here, a nudge there , whooshing in loud schmoozes , the forte over silly quibbles in spring when airing the winter infested sheets ,cymbal beats of pan and the ladle, slowly louder, louder, higher, and higher acquiring a booming tone, hurriedly frenzied embellished with a hollering, till the whirlwind pounded brusquely , ear-splitting timbre modulations piercing deep inside the auricle. It knocked the wind off me. Gossip.