 The next morning, she walked out for a morning walk. She opened up the front door, and she said it was almost like opening up an oven door. I felt as if the air were layered. It felt like it had a texture to it. I don't know how to describe it, she said. And then the quake happened. And about two months later, she had moved to another locality south of San Francisco, and they had a 3.8, and I called her.