Swallowed up by the deep blue sea covering over all the landmass, all the graves, all the mountaintops lifting to the unbreakable sky. The blue fades into the blue. My car motors along. I’m a wealthy man, spending pocket change charged to my credit card on three-one-hundredths of a gallon of gas. Millionaires, though, don’t bother themselves with such pettiness. They have their millions to arrange. They don’t ever get crashed by a storm. They don’t ever survive marriages. They just move on to the next new pair of legs. They’re just like me. Except I don’t have a warm outer shell of sheet fabric and fat covering my brittle bones. I don’t have clots rummaging around in my blood veins. Mine flows free within the constraints of my body walls. I flow free within the constraints of computer systems and road maps. I’ll never leave the planet earth, my two feet always on or in the ground in some manner. Except when I’m dancing or jumping in fear. Or hurtling across the globe in a plane fuselage aimed at different destinations. Wherever I go, I guess there’ll always be a mugshot to be afraid of. Someone lurking in the black depths. Someone to lumber out of the seafoam. Someone to toss Easter eggs at my face with a sidearm pitchers stance. What’d I ever do wrong in my life? I’m just about as perfect as you are too.