One of the observers had mentioned that it looked like a choreographed dance of death. The green cast of the clouds and the way that the winds twisted people into pretzels of tortured bodies and reduced sturdy buildings into a collection of splinters made Zhanna even less inclined to live anywhere where twisters were a common phenomenon.
Everyone was working tired. There just wasn’t enough food in the village to take care of everyone, so many of the healthier people were skipping their meals or splitting them. The children and the old people were the ones that everyone needed to watch. They were the ones most fragile in the face of injury or shock. Zhanna knew that her elderly grandmother would be especially vulnerable and resolved to somehow get her to eat. It would be an argument that s
