A Black Magic Book with the Face of an Old Novel

Airnote  ·  Lysa  ·  Jun 20, 2026

As the light began to tilt toward evening,
Yu showed me a piece of paper —
and there I was.

Standing on the cobblestones in my apron,
holding a black magic book
with the face of an old novel.

To anyone passing by: just a shopkeeper's daughter with a book.
But Yu had seen it clearly —
the kind of book that can't be left out of the picture
if you're going to draw me at all.

The shape of myself that looks ordinary from the outside
but carries a few dangerous pages inside —
seeing that outline quietly take form on paper
felt almost unfair, how happy it made me.

This is for you, Yu said.

I held the paper against my chest once
before going back inside —
through the door, into the smell of salt and old paper.

The long shadow stretching behind me
told me that somewhere in this house,
starting today,
there's a place for one new picture of who I am.