The next night, we arrived at a motel where Nell and Simon had chosen to rendezvous. I knew not where we were, but Simon would eagerly point to his map whenever I was curious and explain which state we were in. We'd traveled through many on our journey from this country's West Coast to the East.
I didn't mind that we'd spend another night in a motel. I was actually looking forward to it. Yes, the tiny homes—rooms—were uncomfortably humid and itched my nose with dust, but also, it was a box to be confined in with the most significant person in my life. Every night, we could relax a little. Talk aimlessly while eating and laughing like our worlds weren't crumbling beneath calamities. And whenever comfortable silence befell us, Simon would click on the television—a remarkable piece of technology that displayed pictures on a screen while telling stories.
It was marvelous.
