Isabel closed her eyes in the back seat and did not open them until they were already driving. All the windows were down. The wind pushed through, a hot breath, a bright warm palm of sky to her face. Sebastian quietly asked her, once, “Are you all right?” And Isabel said, “Of course,” sternly. The storm had left its marks on the landscape: trees felled, branches tumbled down dikes. In reply, nature screeched into the day: insects rubbing noise out of wings, blackbirds running and cawing, flying and cawing.
