28.

The man dreamed of boulders crushing him alive. For weeks he awoke under the weight of imaginary mountains; some mornings he shook dirt from his hair. Red-eyed, flipping through magazines at the doctor’s office, he discovered a flower that only thrived in the churned earth of landslides, its roots most ramified beneath beds of destruction. He ordered its seeds, popped them like Ambien, and fell into bed a hopeful gardener.

grh

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