He tells me there is a house nearby that, when you view it from the street, is straight and upright and so goddamn normal you’d never suspect that it slants at a diagonal when you view it from above.

He tells me he saw it on Google Street View and looked up the address, and it used to be an architect’s office, but that’s not why it slants.

He tells me a lot of houses are like that around here, not avant-garde design but relics of imprecise planning, of architects not thinking about the builders laying wood and brick and stone meeting shifting, unstable terrain.

He tells me our house has a slant, too, and if you know where to look, you can see the baseboard cutting a long, furtive diagonal across the length of the nearest floorboard.

He tells me it’s OK, our slant isn’t as severe as the building that was once an architect’s office.

He tells me he’s been thinking about having children lately.

He tells me that it’s funny, depending on where you stand, the floorboard is either disappearing into the baseboard or emerging, expanding, until it is free.