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The disaster is the failed expectation.
Dellarobia
Luca della Robbia (1399/1400–1482) was an Italian sculptor from Florence. Della Robbia is noted for his colorful, tin-glazed terracotta statuary, a technique which he invented and passed on to his nephew Andrea della Robbia and great-nephews Giovanni della Robbia and Girolamo della Robbia. ~ Wikipedia See loc. 1760
OR, Dellarobia she was to be, like the wreath in the magazine. loc. 1411
Dellarobia’s mother:
Seamstress, loc. 2527
slave-children-in-China loc. 2628
the dimensions of an expensive jewel rather than an inconsequential adult.
Something between tomatoes and a ladybug. And her skin. He called her “Peach.”
that first one that came in its red pelt of fur was a mean wild thing like her.
just to fill a hole nobody meant to dig in the first place.
Making things up was beneath her.
an orange butterfly on a rainy day. Its out-of-place brashness
the Christmas Tree Farm,
The fir forest had its own spooky weather, as if these looming conifers held an old grudge, peeved at being passed over.
a big soft quilt and a bottle of Cold Duck. Lord love a duck, she thought.
The forest blazed with its own internal flame.
nothing else present made sense.
sane.
Bible - Ezekiel 1:13 - As for the likeness of the living creatures, their appearance was like burning coals of fire, and like the appearance of lamps: it went up and down among the living creatures; and the fire was bright, and out of the fire went forth lightning. KJV
In the middle of[a] the living creatures there was something that looked like burning coals of fire, like torches moving to and fro among the living creatures; the fire was bright, and lightning issued from the fire. NRSV
[a] Heb And the appearance of.
This consternation swept the mountain in perfect silence.
Her thoughts clotted
she had failed to take his measure.
She paled at the size her foolishness had attained, how large and crowded and devoid of any structural beams.
Fascination curled itself around her fright.
She had no use for superstition, had walked unlucky roads until she’d just as soon walk under any ladder as go around it, and considered herself unexceptional. By no means was she important enough for God to conjure signs and wonders on her account. What had set her apart, briefly, was an outsize and hellish obsession. To stop a thing like that would require a burning bush, a fighting of fire with fire.
The life she had recently left for dead was still waiting.

