Still not knowing what had really transpired just an hour down the interstate from us, we made a spontaneous trip to Andy's, Macauley in his pajamas (even though it was only early evening) and a pair of my sparkly flipflops he'd found in the car once we arrived and he realized he had left the house barefooted.
A few others were out and about, too, most of us gazing west--quietly, curiously--at the strange sky, snapping pictures with our phones and little cameras that couldn't really capture what we saw. It was only later that word started coming in about our neighbors in Joplin, the EF 5 that had shaken their town to the core while we milled about in our kitchen. It could have been us. It wasn't. I wonder why.