I’m not sure when I realized it, but at some point during my walks through the forest, I saw that people had been at this tree at night. The tree that inspired so many of my early stories, with its strength, its size, the safe space under it. It was my magical place. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I found something under the tree. At first I was confused, but then I realized it was a window with something on it. Exactly like I’d written about in my stories. I put it into my pocket, just curious and surprised by it. But as time passed, I knew who it belonged to, who made it.
B.
B.I had no idea how to talk to him. What to ask. How to even tell him what I found. But, most of all, I had no idea if I was ever going to return it to him. It was egotistical, but I felt like it was mine and min
