Down the rabbit hole the diary of Pringle Rose

From DEAR AMERICA: DOWN THE RABBIT HOLESUNDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1871 Only five days have passed since the fire began but each day has felt like a year. Around me, lumps are beginning to stir. As they sit and stand and scratch and cry and whisper and coo, the lumps transform into men and women and children. Their hair and skin and clothing are covered with fine, white ash. Each time the subtlest breeze passes, it carries smoke and ash with it. I look over each rising lump, wondering if this one will be Gideon. But it never is. I wonder, too, if Gwen and Peter and Adam and Lucy and Sallie are safe. I pray the answer is yes, even though I hope to never lay eyes on a Pritchard again. Excerpted from Down the Rabbit Hole: The Diary of Pringle Rose by Susan Campbell Bartoletti All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.