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  April sketchbook.    Fiction shard: Driving through the badlands, windows up or down, it doesn’t matter. The traffic is boundless and forever–traipsing through a burning meadow in an unhappy dream. Hot air sputtering in from the AC vents, troublesome tanning patterns emerging on the uncovered skin, legs and arms. You see a billboard depicting two giant lottery balls close to the highway exit: one red and one yellow–side by side, oddly fulsome and maternal…bulbous wire mother. The billboard was not enough surface area for the lottery balls–they poke out, break the rectangular continuity demarcating the space. Something is excised in favor of two square LED panels, which are there to let you know that the rubicund PowerBall is at over a billion and swelling. The jaundiced MegaMillions ball is at 48 million. The car in front of you starts and stops. On the radio, unhappy cut-off mutterings: I wanted to– I would have– If only you let me– Try something–   –   –   –   –   –   –   –   –   –