In the rearview mirror, I could see the gazebo built on stilts as if some raging flood were expected. Beyond, a pastoral mural painted on the side of ... building. I wondered where in Indiana the artist thought there were towering mountains like those in the painting. To my left was the post office and across a street wide enough for a four-lane highway was a deserted bank. These things were all perfectly clear in my eyes, yet I couldn’t focus on Beca’s hand that gripped my arm like I might try. I jerked the wheel and alls I remembered were voices screaming, "No, Prissy, no!"The next few weeks mom kept telling me over and over, "Priscilla, you're so lucky, baby, just to be alive. And you're left-handed, too. Oh, baby, we love you. You can still dance, you know? Honey, you can still dance."Everyone thought that it was so important that I could still dance. From the time I was a little girl all the way up to the accident, I was in ballet classes. Now I was getting physical therapy. More

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