Heading east out of San Francisco up into the Central Valley—hours of road, though it looked like nothing on the airline map. Surfing the
Before the quake, I barely saw them. Now I speed beneath their arches praying, “Wait! Don’t squash me! Please!” Houses are heaps of concrete,
In the dark city’s gleaming freezers of office buildings, shut computers cool in rows like ice cubes. Women working late suddenly pass by empty