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Time: Undefined, sliding in a slip channel conduitThe ride I was in was nothing like the Nebraska channel. This one was spinning me around so much, it was a great battle not to puke. I seemed to be enveloped in some sort of bubble, very tough, and I was glad of it. Every time I would bounce against the spiral walls, I seemed to knock off shards that spun and twisted as they traveled with me. They looked wickedly sharp and absolutely flat, true two-dimensional pieces of God know what. Their jagged edges were frightening, but they didn't seem to be able to cut my bubble.There was a fork coming up in the channel, one branch looked like more of the same, and the other looked like hell, thinning and tapering to a point. I would be crushed if I took it. I instinctively flinched at the sight, and I tried to jerk my bubble away from the disastrous fork. Surprisingly, I seemed to have some control over my bubble, and I jerked it away from the death channel. I sped down the other fork, my mind. We know each other's secret. Everybody knows mine. I'm the only one of us that knows Cindy was thirteen. They all know she was fourteen when she married Dan."Where's your mind right now, little one?" Dan asked me."Just kipping around random thoughts." I squeezed his hand. "You know how my mind is. Started off thinking of me and you under the stars." I thought you'd be more excited about coming home." Dan, home is where you are. Maybe if things had been happier here I'd look at it differently but I don't have much in the way of roots." You do. You just don't know it," Dan argued. We turned off the main highway onto the road that led past our house. "This is home. Roots. Your mom might not have realized it, but I'm sure your grandma did." Yes," I said, remembering. "Grandma did." It's been a bit more than a year since the hurricane that threw me and Dan together. I remember talking about the aftermath with Dan, looking together over the fields of storm-blown debris. He's right, a year.
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