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June 11, 2001
It's hard to say exactly what it was--the way my hands reflected green back up to the sky, how air felt hollow and heavy at the same time, the rain that fell with drops of lightning inside, the panic in the eyes of some, the anticipation for more in others'. As for me, I just wanted to go outside and dance under this strange canopy, but stayed put with worry for a certain car on the road. This is what it means to love, I suppose, to root down instead of dancing. To curse instead of praise the tornado.