A great many years ic alp. It began    in a linguistics book in faterest at first, ot I o do one    taiters and fal N’s t    ttle n’s and capital K’s t    ttle k’s. Otters, n’s and d’s and s’s and z’s, tle tails and loops attac’s. I loved t turned into j’s, and v’s t pery o’s like perf dogs on balls at taug    ernational pic alp, I discovered, you could e    looked like mat looked like secret code,    looked like lost languages.

        I needed a lost language. One in . I used to e one special er’s name. A talisman. I folded to elaborate miniature ami, kept my pleat of paper alo me. I lived in my coat pocket; in summer it tickled my ankle i nig my    alrack of ts of paper. I lost tried to prize one from my fingers, I s to t    o read it. But tom of a dra, I did noto stop    name, o break, and o me, were full of sorrow.

        o speak but, raising my fio my lips, I anded     tried to s    ed tet    tried to keep    to her now.

        I prized t a    t on t tasted its dry, ang, and sen years my parents rying tet.    it in a sileny own. And remember.

        Alongside my mispronunciation of een languages, and my ability to recite t for, random    over from my bookis only to amuse myself; its purpose in te, so as ticular effort to practice it. t is o paper to capture ts and fricatives, trills of Emmeline’s urges.

        After t on t my line of squiggles and symbols and signs. as it accurate? Doubts began to assail me. ely after my five-minute journey bato tion of tic alp itself adequate?    if my first failed attempts aminated my memory?

        I en on t again, urgently. aited for to tell me I    it rig ravestied transcription of somet was useless.

        I e t name instead. talisman.

        It ill alone.

        I screo a ball and kicked it into a er.
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