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A Greyhound bus leaves the Chicago station. A couple of

students install their laptops on their jeansy thighs. Images

of abysmal and cavernous canyons lit by the setting sun

cover their computer screens. Earphones in their ears,

laptops on their laps. The boy and the girl in tandem watch

the same film. Hours, miles and landscapes pass by.

Outside of the bus window, on the grassy lowlands of

Indiana, sorrel and piebald horses romp around a mirror-

like pond.

“If you open your eyes, you can see heaven on earth,” says

an elderly gentleman to an elderly lady sitting by the

window, who offers him cherries. “I should limit eating

while traveling because my internal organs are damaged by

psychotropic drugs since the Vietnam War. But I’m


The students write digital letters, send text messages,

enlarge images, diminish the letter-size of texts. Flashing,

flickering, fluttering. The boy stretches his torso,

straightens his arms, moves his head to the sides.

“What a handsome barn,” the elderly woman says while

they are passing a red barn amid the hills of Ohio. “The

queen of the farm,” the veteran says.