Could you walk outside into the yard and make me a drawing of it in the dirt? It’s only a small, simple room. You’ve lived there ever since you could walk. Two beds, probably a sleeping cat on one, a chest full of clothes. What about scale? We can’t draw it the size it is, even a small room like that. We need to scale it down. Would you give me a matchbox bed under a tiger cat? Could you remember the size of everything in relation to everything else? This relationship is more and more important the larger we go. A tree in its place in a forest, an island tethered in the sea. In Ma’s map, the only one we have of the Forgotten Territories, each kind of tree is marked. The detail matters. Even in mapping your bedroom. Landmarks next. A circle for rest and comfort: the cat and the bed. An X for danger where the loose nail sticks out of the chest. A snaking line for the voice line between your bed and Gabo’s. Perhaps this is it. This simple square, marked in the dirt. This is a map you could go and buy from any map-maker, anywhere in the world.
