Warm sheets of summer air pushed through the car’s cracked window. Her hair twisted around her face. Row after row of tall corn plants passed alongside the moving car. The sky was a flat blue. This is what sandess feels like, she thought. I am sad right now, and right now things are changing in ways that will make it so that nothing is ever the same. She turned these thoughts over in her head like thin metal coins. Her eyes were still and dry, her lips closed. Warm air wiped its sweaty palms in the hollows of her slack cheeks. Her limbs floated around her like the torn ribbons of husks on the cornstalks. Nothing I can do will change a thing. This is a time to get through. There had been a time to cry weeks ago, and she hadn’t turned in her ticket, and now, weeks later, it was a time to be still and turn coins over quietly in her head.
She parked the car on the side of the road. Corn husks turned over in the wind, and the dry rustling was a comfort.