"I am big. It's the pictures that got small." [1]

We were driving in pursuit of ciabatta outside of Charlottesville, Virginia, when we spied an old-school armchair sitting in the August field. We pulled over and left the car, named Betty Boop, on the road's shoulder. The high grass simmered with cicadas and dragonflies. We struck out across that field. What dew clung to our bare legs, we imagined.

"There is Camelot," you said, reading the name of the cookie-cutter gated community that stood yonder, and snapped some shots of my slight but joyful figure in that chair. The photos turned out blurry. For the first time, the world saw Kasia the way Kasia sees the world.

[1] Norma Desmond