Veronica And The Volcano

Veronica looked out the window, daydreaming with her elbow on the door and her head in her hand. Maddy fiddled with the iPad, unaware of the towering city rolling into view just ahead of her. Veronica’s eyes rose above the clouds. “Daddy, does it really touch the sky?” she asked. The clouds hiding the city’s peak parted—answering her—with an emphatic yes. Babeltown, a once-proud city of thousands, looked more like a brightly colored painting in which all the colors had run together. Some of the houses were narrow, others wide, together covering the mountain in a twisted freeform pile stretching to the heavens. Thousands of windows looked out in every direction like so many eyes peering down upon the valley below. “I thought for sure this place would have burned,” Veronica’s dad marveled. He parked the car next to a walking path and switched off the ignition. “Okay,” he said, “everyone … out! The old house, if it’s still there, should be right up that hill. And if there’s time,” he added, with a wink to the Ca