She looked at the sky. Above her, it was clear, but she couldn’t see any horizons from the bottom of the riverbed. She could smell moisture, though,...and it wasn’t from the drying mud caked on her body. There was a storm coming.Tabatha walked back the way she had come, across the dried riverbed in the shadow of the great, dead bridge high above her. By the time she’d climbed back up the bank, there was a roiling darkness on the western horizon – an approaching summer storm. It was growing. ”I was surprised how much the first swat hurt. When I was younger, my parents would sometimes paddle me, but the paddle never had holes in it. So by the time I had received about forty swats, my bottom was really hurting. On the next swat, I stood up and rubbed my bottom. “I told you not to move from your position,” she said. “For that, you will receive ten more swats. Bend over, again.” So I bent over to receive twenty more swats. At fifty swats she said, “That takes care of your fifty. More

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