drens’ lungs inside the sweltering building. Fanny and Julia didn’t stop until they had nearly reached the pier, where they turned back in awe at a tremendous picture of desolation. Through the ashes floating gently like snow was an effulgent array of reds and oranges that captivated the destitute children. Shreds of cotton were floating as well, dancing and swirling happily, free at last from their imprisoning ropes and hands and machines—not at all so different from the children themselves.
253