I saw a girl complaining that the pain of not being seen was unbearable. I saw the mother lying in bed in her long flowing robes. Then the girl pulled out a sharp sword and told her mother, "Then you must die the death of a thousand cuts. It is the only way to save you."

The mother accepted this and closed her eyes. The sword came down and slicked back and forth, up and down, whish! whish! whish! And the mother screamed and shouted, cried out in terror and pain. But when she opened her eyes, she saw no blood, no shredded flesh.

The girl said, "Do you see now?"

The mother nodded: "Now I have perfect understanding. I have already experienced the worst. After this, there is no worst possible thing."

And the daughter said, "Now you must come back, to the other side. Then you can see why you were wrong."

And the girl grabbed her mother's hand and pulled her through the wall.

~Lena St. Clair: The Voice from the Wall. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan

There must be a storm coming. The passing minutes are punctuated with bouts of lightning, red, lighting up the silhouette of the far off forest canopy. I love tropical storms, and tonight, I will sleep deeply amidst its clapping power, thankful for the days gone by and the days to come. I cannot recall happier days. I suspect it's security that has descended upon me and my adventurous days are drawing to a stable, timely close.