The sprawl comes to a punctuated end. Except it’s not. It’s just the pause in the middle of a long and rambling run-on sentence that seems like it will go on and on and on forever without the benefit of a comma or ellipsis or hyphen or; every night the chewing beast sucks in a solitary asthmatic breath as the dust settles back underfoot. In the morning its bite will double. And double again. And again until its gradual incline has been bent vertical. And then what?