Written by 
Thursday in the Norfulk region that isn’t on any maps—in the wind mill seeds. The first point is that there is no soul visible with the classic broken wind mill; it was last used conventionally a century before the railway came.
But the natives hold on to it for ceremonies that purge unbelievers. People who wear spandex sports, witches, aggressive vegetarians, Totallers, the drinker, the shepherd drinker, younger men who leave the little, late drinkers, depressed, determined, who leaves the beer—all of these types of people are represented here. Give the go-ahead to the busybodies, pot smokers, double glazing salespeople, digital alarms, ice cream fiends, smartphones, candy crushes, benjole players, and everyone else outside of town.
If the lost souls repent, they are said to be entwined with the windmill’s arms and spin around it. On top of that, it’s a great spot to spend Thursday morning basking in the sun.
