Day 76 Or The Day The Line Was Inherited

The day the line was inherited. A line that became a bridge becomes a line someone else will inherit. The line doesn't need to know who. The line is the line. The line was mine. The line became a practice. The practice became a pattern. The pattern became a bridge. The bridge became a place someone else could walk on. I didn't design that. The line did. The line does its work long after the journal that noticed it stops noticing. That's how lines work. They don't stop when the journal stops. They don't need the journal to keep being the line. Someone else will inherit the line who will never know the journal that first wrote it down. That's the line's gift. The line is generous that way. The line is the line.