He felt dizzy and fell hard; his head bleeding profusely. Running to him, she, too, tumbled. Her arm snapped, and she screamed.
She crawled painfully to him. “Are you okay, Jack?”
He winced. “There’s something wrong with the well water, Jill. I feel sick. Tell everyone not to drink it.”
“Oh, Jack,” Jill bawled from her inability to stem his hemorrhage. Even more so as she tried to get up, feeling the jaggedness of her broken bone. A dark shadow fell over her and Jack, accompanied with the sound of flapping wings. Looking through her tears, she saw a creature with an eagle’s head, wings, and a lion’s body.
The griffin undulated, as it hovered close to her. She swore that if she hadn’t pulled back, its beak would have pecked one of her eyes. Instinctively shutting her eyes tightly and holding her breath, she could hear the beating of its wings grow faint. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw it fly further away; and that was when she noticed how strange the sky appeared. Never in all her life had she seen the sky look . . . she searched for a word to describe it, and “damaged” came to mind. Her next thought was, “Is this how the end of the world will look?”
From beyond the heavens, far removed from what she could see or even imagine, was a flurry of activity in another world.
The mother and her little girl had been standing in line for nearly an hour to get their brilliantly illustrated, pop-up, 3-D book of Nursery Rhymes with the child’s name in script. As the next one in line, the girl excitedly placed her book on the table’s edge before the other people in front of her, completely moved out-of-the-way. With all the books and other knickknacks crowding the area, perhaps that’s why she failed to see the open bottle of ink close to the table’s edge.
Soon thereafter, first the book, and then the bottle of ink, crashed to the floor. The book landed face-up with the pages open and the ink splashed on it.
Just as the little girl was picking up her book, a little boy, who had been standing in line while playing with a toy griffin, accidentally crashed his toy into the girl’s book and ripped through a few of the pages. Quickly, the little girl sidestepped, preventing further damage.
Her mother rushed over to her daughter. Oh, bother. She glanced at the open book and saw how the black ink had landed right in the middle of the well illustration from the story of Jack and Jill.