2 am on deserted streets with my hand in my pocket, clicking stones strung together on a string made to resemble a pearl necklace. They're wrapped between my fingers like a rosary. I'm thinking about the Mask of Zorro, the yellow circle of light on concrete, and the gun, the gun.
With one end of the string held against my eye and the other pointed at the moon, the pearls become a glowing pathway. After weeks of meditation, they've become a tether connecting me to something deep...
