Where
she
wasn’t
angry
all
the
time?
Where
he
and
she
collided
in
non-‐disastrous
ways?
She
could
see
it.
Here’s
the
victorious
spot:
they’re
sitting
on
a
picnic
blanket
–
checkered,
of
course,
like
a
crossword
–
underneath
a
rainbow
in
a
cloudless
sky.
They’re
eating
delicate
finger
sandwiches
on
white
bread
with
the
crusts
cut
off.
She
smiles.
She’s
wearing
pink
and
her
skin
is
made
of
porcelain.
Money
grows
on
the
trees
around
them.
You
can
lick
a
schnozberry
and
it
tastes
like
an
honest
to
goodness
schnozberry.
How
about
that!
It
all
goes
to
pot
again
in
the
bottom
right
corner.
The
intersection
of
fifty-‐
nine
across
and
sixty
down,
where
a
blank
square
ceaselessly
mocked
her.
Fifty-‐
nine
across H0