It beat the air feebly with its ragged arms and creaked out muffled curses. Unfair, it said unfair that I am old, unfair that I am useless, unfair, it beat the air feebly with its ragged curses. Even the sky, it said, is electric, and unfair to be so spruce and up to date, electric like everything else and not like me, useless, old with unfair curses. I can hear the cables humming the turbines’ muffled drumming and the unfair electric sky, it said, and the creaking of the old wind’s feeble curses. The unfair mills of electric cities, it said, and I am left to tilt at ragged Don Quixotes in my useless imagination and beat feebly at a thousand Rosinantes’ whinnied curses.