Prolog
Everytime Nora watches the bodies drop from the sky, she recalls how dying for something you believe in only takes a moment but living for it takes a lifetime. Nora loves how the bodies fall to the ground with the softest of thuds. The first time she saw it happen, a nearby woman told her, “It’s like watching down pillows fall from a high shelf. I always had the best dreams when I slept on down.” Deep wrinkles covered the woman’s face and her appearance, - gray woolen scarf, an ill fitting long dress and mud laden Wellington boots- reminded Nora of the women she’d see at the weekend market outside her small town in the west of Ireland.
The woman added, “Down is from the chests of geese or swans. It’s like the fluffy white dandelions you probably blew on as a child to make a wish.”
Nora replied she never blew on dandelions or wished for much as a child.
It was a lie. Lies allowed Nora to avoid the truth. The truth wasn’t something she wanted to discuss with a stranger. Especially a stranger who reminded her of life before...before she met the people who waited for bodies to drift slowly from the sky.
