by Neal Sherman
After all, the rules of the living world must have seemed strange when she was very little. Heavy airplanes flew; the sky turned red at sunset; clouds could hold an ocean full of water, then rain it down on the ground below. Absurd!
Out of the crowd a girl stepped forward. She had long blond hair that nearly fell to the floor, wore a tie- dye shirt, and bell- bottoms so big, the cuffs practically trailed behind her like a bridal train. A 60's hippie girl if there ever was one.
"Don't tell me," said Allie, "your name is Summer, and you want to know if we're groovy.""My name's Meadow, and I don't say groovy anymore, because I got tired of people making fun of me." she said.
Her grandmother had an old- fashioned typewriter like this one- she still used it. "Words aren't words unless you pound them out." she used to say.
(she is cracking open fortune cookies, and the fortunes always come true in the place she is in)
It was like eating pistachios, and she found herself getting into a rhythm of cracking open one after another... until she reached the fourth one, broke it open, and the fortune said:
Look behind you.
