I remark, "what a strange place for a house to be standing." "Everybody says that," she replies.
The house is in a mountainous region halfway up a steep incline. She is siting in a bay window. I try to photograph the scenery outside over her shoulder and when in no time, a white substance envelops the sky and ground. I first thought it was dense fog unique to the mountain regions. But in the clearing between patches of fog, far, far below, is a crater, from which smoke billows. I also see red flames. Her younger brother asks me to play catch, and I throw the ball from inside through the window. He runs around on the slope as if he were running on flat ground.
"Won't he fall into the crater doing that?"
"He'll be fine."
I wondered if being raised in an environment like this was really a good thing.