Climbing too far and too tall with hands scraped with rope burn, I diddle-daddle. I think, and then I decrescendo until I diminuendo to nada. My eyes reach for the dimpled lights embedded into the evening sky. Bitten by the cold, my ass rests atop the rope. I need to balance. If I fall, I’ll have wooden needles to catch me. Hush! My mind chopped to blank. Mindless thoughts set ablaze (a fire!) with blurry smoke, moving fast but not...

        Climbing too far and too tall with hands scraped with rope
    burn, I diddle-daddle. I think, and then I decrescendo until I
    diminuendo to nada. My eyes reach for the dimpled lights
    embedded into the evening sky. Bitten by the cold, my ass rests
    atop the rope. I need to balance. If I fall, I’ll have wooden needles
    to catch me. Hush! My mind chopped to blank. Mindless thoughts
    set ablaze (a fire!) with blurry smoke, moving fast but not ...

I had always thought of my dad as a magician. His stylus was his wand, and with it, he would conjure up the wildest of creatures from his mind. He brought my childhood friends to life and drew invincible heroes from his tablet. It wasn’t long before he put a pen into my own hands and told me to create my own stories, though mine were written. The world was a big place, but my dad made it bigger. That...