Not in Kansas

We count time by the cow. It calls out when it flies by our window. Jack counted his heartbeats once and we worked out it was about an hour between passes. The cow probably needs to be milked. I tried that once, went out in the vortex with my pail, but the winds snatched it away. Have to be careful not to drift into the eye, or you’ll fall back down to the ground.

It’s been a few hundred cows since the tornado picked us up. I wonder if we’ll ever land. I wonder where we’ll be when we do.