Leonora grimaced, as if swallowing some poisonous phlegm. "Major Parker, tell him to--" She glanced at the dark cloud boiling over the mesa like the effluvium of some black-hearted volcano. ''Wait! Let's see what the little cripple can do!" She turned on Manuel with an overbright smile. "Go on, then. Let's see you sculpt a whillwind."In her face the diagram of bones formed a geometry of murder.
from the short story "The Cloud Sculptors of Coral D" in the book 'Vermilion Sands' by J. G. Ballard
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