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the left that there are little black funnels going out over the water
and disappearing. They started near me and were very
large. I note that they are not real but have been drawn.
I think the storm is over, but now we have to find
another place to live.
(K.M.F., Randallstown, Maryland)
We are in the greenhouse during a thunderstorm. We see a jetliner skimming the hills. It crashes on a hill. We check and see only one person climbing down on a ladder, which is being held by another man. The other people are dismantling the tail. They lower the pieces down with pulleys. We leave and I get one of my legs covered with bugs but manage to brush them off. (C.D., 8 years old)
I am on a bus, an only passenger nearby my stop. I pick up a pocketbook missing its covers. It's tattered and torn and starts on page 26. The book is familiar and enchanting. I think that it seems exactly like a book I had been enjoying, but I am unable to recall the title. I ask the bus driver if I can keep the book for two days so I can read it. He insists that the book is the Bible. I question this, as the book is very familiar to me while the Bible is not. He says he will show me the rhythms in it as they compare to the Bible, if we could spend some time together. As I alight from the bus down very steep steps, clutching my book, another girl, faceless and aloof, is preparing to get on. (G.D., Middlebourne, West Virginia; mother of C.D.)
I am looking into a square room. It is completely bare except for one flowerpot. Growing out of it is a tree trunk, about 4" in diameter. The trunk has grown straight up about halfway to the ceiling, but then it has grown toward the left wall, and now it is pressed against the ceiling. The bark is not rough, but there seem to be ridges circling it every few inches, and at the top it is about 2" in diameter. Growing out of the top are four or five lush, fleshy, oval, dark green leaves. They are being pressed down somewhat by the ceiling. I am distressed because now that there are finally some leaves on the tree, there is no more room for them to grow. (G.C., Little Valley, New York)
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