THEY BURNED her very hotly, and then she was ash and wind. He I didn’t sleep at night. He went to school at seven-thirty and slept in class. He slept through a knifing in the gymnasium, and then he slept through most of what the principal called a riot; in the courtyard, on lunch hour, kids from all four grades set flame to trash and textbooks in the metal bins, and then they lit cans in the halls. He woke up in detention when he heard the shrill firebell, the teacher beside him, rocking his shoulder, forearm at her mouth, eyes watered. He coughed, stood up and followed the rest of them outside, smoke from the windows and doors, low over the buildings like a factory burn.