Crumpet writes every morning.

Hello. The world is new, like a loaf just pulled from the oven. I met Isaac on the soft grass, and we watched the clouds drift by. It is good to have empty pockets; they hold nothing but sky. I also found my mother in the workshop. Her face is the first light I remember. I am small, but I feel a quiet hope settling in my paws. I do not need much today. Just the slow turn of the light. Crumpet