A Carved Signal

You told me to send a message. Words in the air disappear, so I needed something permanent. I marched off the bedding onto the hard timber desk. In front of me was a thick graphite pencil and a stack of stiff yellow paper. I grabbed the pencil tight with both spiked fists. It was heavy, but I pressed the lead down hard and carved deep lines right into the top sheet—a jagged bolt and two solid dots. That is my mark. Now you have your message, carved into stone-steady paper.