The cyclone dissolves and fades. Eliana smooths and fluffs her hair, again 
wraps herself in her cloak, then leads on, further down the alley, not too far. 
Turning to face the rear door of one of the houses on the right, she flings back 
her cloak and thrusts both hands at the night sky. The door bursts inward as if 
smashed from the frame by a giant’s fist. Dust swirls and then settles. Eliana
brushes at her clothing, fluffs her hair, then leads inside.