This is in the 8 category because I found it while sorting my desk. It's a journal entry that was made on a palm-sized pad of paper, then removed from the pad and stapled together. It was possibly tucked into a journal at one point, but it is now a journal-less entry.
The thoughts hide when I'm armed with a pen. A pen's line is too sharp. It can cut ideas like a string cuts cheese.
The Velveeta (tm) weeps at the slicing.
Father mailed a flashlight in a Velveeta box, once. It was our box [my sisters and I]. We had been using it to hold crayons all our lives.
He laughed, thinking of the person at the other end opening it and seeing all the rainbow net of random marks on the inside cardboard. But it was the right size. So the flashlight went in with the letter that their batteries had leaked far too soon and ruined the flashlight and what were they going to do?
He was very happy when the new flashlight came. It was a triumph and a lesson to us.
I don't know that we did with the crayons after that. I can remember a tin - a round fruitcake tin that was hard to open and pained the fingers. Perhaps it inspired us to keep crayola boxes intact longer.
It was a better flashlight. We liked the shiny silver. And we were getting old enough to want to throw out crayon stubs.
Engineers are supposed to date their notes. So I'm getting into the habit of dating every pad as I pick it up, before I forget.
Lillibell, Ferntickle, and Daffed are a three. [This is notes on a story I was writing.]
So are Narnemvar, Satbada, and Livvy. They represent two distinct kind of magic. I think there needs to be another three from the middle. [In the story, one group is starting in the north and traveling south, the other is doing the opposite.]
They'll be engineers - the people who have no way to manipulate magic directly, but who need to cope with it anyway.