From A Spell Called Home
40.
After reading Calamities by Renee Gladman When, on some day after you begin, having acclimated to being so close to something massive, like the ocean, the scale of which you’ve never come across before, especially something that moves so, though you don’t see it, the ocean, going about your daily business—grabbing coffee; texting yet another man you don’t know about what you’d do to each other if you did know each other—you catch the train as it comes into the station and it’s as if your whole body is on the pulse of this massive beast, this horse surging forward, taking you with it.