Do you know when you're walking, and you almost trip, but you catch yourself, and you get this strange tingly feeling all down the front of you, buzzing on every surface that would have struck the ground? I have that feeling now. No, not because I was planning to go to Sri Lanka next week. No, because I had been planning to go either to Phi Phi island or one of the very bays in Phuket from which so many were swept away (Kamala) this week. I tried my best to convince my whole family to go with me, too: brother, sister, mother, aunt, uncle, cousins, the works. Those nice aunties with the hut, who make snacks and rent beach chairs at the north end of Kamala Bay? Our friends from the restaurant, who were so nice to Zoë? I hate to think what's happened there. It's just like a horrible nightmare I have sometimes, the towering wall of water, everything frozen for a moment, then the crashing and turning and the baby ripped out of your arms. I have to go lie down now. I feel the deepest sympathy for all those mothers caught in this tragedy, who didn't have the good fortune to be sitting on their balconies with a cup of coffee and watching the dawn come up like thunder at 7 yesterday, like I was. And everyone else, too.