Chapter 19

Dad and I spend the following day in the town of Marpod. While waiting for him to finish his bank dealings, I doodle on the back of a spare client receipt—it’s a black pen sketch of a kingly stag trampling over the ashes of dead hunters. Bits of flame surround them. It’s a little morbid, maybe, but whatever. The stag turned out beautifully. Majestic, even. Staring at it now, I see it represents everything I don’t know how to say.

I’m also itching to return to my tablet and newest piece: Castle Rook. The idea came to me last night. I didn’t even have to think about it. The lines and spaces—all of it—just flowed.

I turned the shape of a bird—a rook in flight—into a frame, and within the frame is an inverted castle. When the rook’s inverted, the castle is right side up. It’s meant to be right-side up, any which way you look at it, Escher-style.

And best of all, I gave it the most eager parts of myself.

iPhone Notepad:

Sunset dreams

I would attend,

A journey to the stars.