Let the Sky Fall
I’m lucky to be alive.
At least, that’s what everybody keeps telling me.
The reporter from the local newspaper even had the nerve to call it a miracle. I was “Vane Weston: The Miracle Child.” Like the police finding me unconscious in a pile of rubble was part of some grand universal plan.
“Family Survives Tornado”—now, that would’ve been a miracle. But trust me, there’s nothing “miraculous” about being...