A wind blows from the east, passing over monuments of times past, a weathered statue, a playground still used, but slowly being forgotten, itcontinues east until it passes through a window and settles on the KingOfMalkier as he lathers up, it's a thick lather built upon his cheek he lifts his razor and the wind passes on with the year.

Ok, I'm no jordan, and I rarely do these birthday threads, but you sir rock... happy birthday!