On Friday afternoon I took the tollway to the Cretaceous Period, passing through the tangled cloverleaf of elevated ramps that can vector you off in the direction of Laredo, Duluth, Houston or the Hill Country if you miss your exit. When you’re up on one of those overpasses that tower over the negative space of the city, you risk testing the effectiveness of that little concrete guardrail if you try to take a proper look at the landscape below. If you did, you would see the wide plain of what was once a shallow sea, where leviathan reptiles swam in the space now occupied by the kinds of suburbs that are invisible to all but those who live there.
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