The manhole cover was misaligned. The stripe marking the side of the road across the metal plate didn’t connect to the painted line on the pavement.

She looked out her window and fumed, infuriated by the carelessness eating at the fabric of society. “I want it fixed,” she whispered.

“Stop obsessing,” he said.

“Why doesn’t anyone care? I’m losing my mind.”

“You are.”

It haunted her at night. It tormented her days. He told her to find something that mattered in the world. Otherwise, she was...