Excerpt
She's going to try. She wants to say something about a new important thought she has had. How spirits go up, toward the sky, but souls go down, toward the earth and toward water. Water runs down because the earth pulls it that way. The soul wants to go down, too, and grow roots, run like a river. And that maybe death is like water running backwards. Could that be? That at death, you let go of the roots, and instead let the spirit take over, and let you into the sky?
She wonders, for the both of them, if they'll be brave enough to face it. They'll have no choice, of course, but it would be nice to know they could face it well.
But how can she put words to that?
She can feel the heat from the truck blasting on her feet. It feels like her feet are touching hell. She needs to find some sky, some kindness, some love. And she better do it fast.