His daughter was six years old when she made her first clay figurine. Terrance twirled it in his hands for a long time, but still didn’t understand what or who it was. Cattery then said: “elephant.” He didn’t understand and asked again: “who?” Then there were other figures and other words. “Saag is not a bird, dad, it’s a reptile. Do you want me to draw you the Earth? No, not the dirt under your feet, dad, but another planet!” Terrance listened to his daughter and everything inside him turned to stone, covered with frost, as if he had gotten lost between two points of the portal. He couldn't talk about it. Hope and fear tormented him like an ache in his bones when a thunderstorm approaches.