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🌟 Grand Canyon: It's just gorges



The wind rocked the car-house like a cradle as Mom screwed up the courage to open the door.


"Cheeses, sustained winds of 25 miles per hour and gusts of 55? That's highway speeds!" Mom told the Witch in a tone that meant to cut it out.


"Uh oh," I agreed. I didn't need to know what twenny and fiddy meant to understand that the wind was strong. I'd been watching it throw tumbleweeds into the road all morning. They skipped and tumbled across the highway in a clumsy sprint to the other side. Not all of them made it.


She dropped the Witch in her lap and went back to watching the wind steal the hats and ruffle the hair of the people brave enough to get out of their cars. "This isn't the sort of place where I want invisible forces pushing me around," she said mominously.


"Are you sure you're not just exaggerating because you want people to know how miserable you are?" I asked.


"It's all people who are making it miserable." Mom sliced her hand toward the front window in a You see what I have to put up with? motion. "How am I supposed to concentrate on not getting blown off a cliff when there are so many clueless tourists gawking about?"


She had a point. The mall-sized car kennel was teaming with people who had no idea that they were on death's doorstep. They forgot things and went back to the car. They wandered through the aisles in groups so that the loose cars had to follow them at walking speeds. They swung selfie sticks like golf clubs. They stood in front of signs. They walked with witches held in front of them, watching where they were going through the screen. They clumped at the edge of the car kennel for pictures.


Death sat self-consciously behind them all, its bloodthirsty depths and time-stained teeth awkwardly out of place among the picnic tables, recycle bins, and flush-toilets.



Mom gave up on waiting for the wind to blow all the people away and opened the door. She elbowed through the crowd toward the biggest wall calendar page I'd ever seen.

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