The grey, barely wrinkled wood boards sit next to each other for miles. The space between each plank lines up with its identical neighbor resulting in dozens of black tracks extending all the way to the horizon. Any second now I expect to join their motion, thrust across the desert in an objection-less glide marked for the base of the building. Just before impact, shot like a catapult smack into the fifth story of her floor to ceiling windows. Momentary pause gives way to a soft, slow slide towards the sand. The sound of skin's friction rubbing against the cool envelope of an unmoved barrier. Finally to rest on the horizon that seemed so far away.