"You fell asleep silly. Here's your coffee." I took the cup and sat up a bit on the sofa. She went to the opposite end and plopped down sideways, cros...ing her legs and facing me, her back to the armrest. I noticed she had changed. Gone were the skin tight designer jeans, beautiful blouse and louboutins shoes. In their place was a loose fitting sweatshirt with sleeves so long her well manicured hands were inside them, and a pair of loose fitting shorts. Her feet were bare. Her face was scrubbed. Her flesh wasn't so much roasted as severely singed. But Edith's demise and that of everyone else in the Lancaster town centre happened when seconds later she was caught in a maelstrom of tumbling buildings and other unexpectedly mobile street furniture from which she couldn't possibly flee as the winds rushed inwards towards the source of the explosion and flung her repeatedly and mercilessly against whatever hard object there was until, like Odile, there was no life remaining in a body that. More

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