It’s not far going from here to there as the crow flies.
He moved a fingertip from one spot to another on a map seemingly hung on the wall behind the cash register a few decades ago with mismatched thumbtacks. Portions along the creases had begun to fray apart.
Of course since you’re on foot that wouldn’t be the case.
I envied the crow. Then I resented it, the black-feathered wings turning the world into a lush and extravagant map.