She was chopping down the beanstalk as fast as possible with the magic ax she purchased with her soul. Dreaming Shelley came up on her. “What are you *doing*? You’ll *kill* yourself. You’ll kill both of us. Stop it; put down the ax.”
Still-a-kid Liz kept chopping away, whack whack whack. At the 200th swing, the giant plant leading up to the top of the sky began to crack at its base. It was falling. “Look what you’ve done!” screamed Shelley still beside her. The thing unwound in the distance like a collapsed tornado. She woke up.
Sunklands 