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He wanted quiet for a while instead of the radio, so you could say what happened was his fault.
She wanted fresh air instead of the AC for a while, so you could say it was hers.
That all but one of these cars appeared to have been there for days—even weeks—was another anomaly that would not strike them until later.
Everything will have moved, Cal, good buddy. The grass flows and you flow too. Think of it as becoming one with nature, bro.
“Help me!” the kid screamed, and how about this? Help came from Cal’s left, me from his right. It was the Kansas version of Dolby Stereo.
Directions melted in the tall grass, and time melted as well: a Dalí world with Kansas stereo.
Because she hasn’t been dead that long, Becky thought. We heard her scream. We heard her die.
It’s easier to find things in here once they’re dead. The field doesn’t move dead things around.”
Cal walked toward the rock.
The stone wasn’t hot at all. It was cool. It was blessedly cool and he laid his face upon it, a weary pilgrim who has finally arrived at his destination, and can rest at last.
All flesh is grass.
