What if Dorothy wasn’t afraid of the wind? What if she welcomed the cyclone?
The thought of being lifted, suspended in air as release. What if she saw
it as escape, being tossed and jolted? Maybe a change would occur if she shook fast
enough. Maybe she liked not knowing if her body would survive the catch and release.
Maybe being picked up and let go in another’s chaos was freeing.
I imagine she was raptured before the light of the day had kissed the earth. The swirl approached and she went
willingly. Threw her head and arms back, and let it consume her.
Maybe she had been waiting to be swept off her feet by a wild, uncontrollable thing.