1.27

He looked like a pancake that had been squished flat. Too-flat, like the feeling of lying down in the shade on a hot day. She hated it about him. She wanted geography: rolling, tumultuous, violent. She wanted change of color and tone, a sense of texture and reality. What she got was paper. A coin left on railroad tracks. A road on a never ending plain, driving across Illinois and Missouri and Kansas and Colorado, waiting for the mountains the map said would be there.