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55 The Big One Never has après moi meant so much—the ocean curling back from its shores, gathering itself in tsunami. Exponential, the Richter scale’s needle leaps its language. Meaning ten will break the earth in half. Meaning when I find you, wherever you are, you will be staked to low tide and my shadow will be the shadow of a great and coming wave. Already, pipes exploding in the guts of houses. Already trucks jackknifing the streets, already sidewalks littered with burning trash. Already, small notes on napkins twist and float on the alleyway thermals like birds or ghosts. ...

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