She stared at the map for the few short moments that it took for him to fold the paper plane.
It flew across the flat globe and off to the tungsten sun.
It dove towards the wooden plains, but instead landed by the black ocean in a coffee cup.
It rained on the carpet as the umbrella dropped near her feet.
She broke apart the plane. She had half expected a penned message, or little passengers, but it was blank.
She turned to him. He shrugged.