twister raze on days when the wind is strong enough to blow the back door open, leaving me feeling like i'm being pranked by a ghost, and it insists on moaning a message my mind can't quite decode, i sometimes find myself wondering what it would be like to get swept up in a cyclone of that magnitude. to be one of the people dorothy sees soaring on the other side of her bedroom window in "the wizard of oz" after her house is wrested from the dirt by the most savage storm she'll live to see born. at some stage before being irrevocably broken, i have to believe there would be a moment when you would think: i'm flying. and all the fear would fall away from the funnel of your moving mausoleum. 260509 what's it to you? who go blather from