A. and I have been telling each other a story since last weekend. Photograph--the story thus far: Jinn and A met on a beach and became friends. They went for an adventure together, and at their first stop, they sat on a purple rock that turned out to be the shell of giant turtle, studded with pink diamonds. Jinn’s fingers had been magically changed to long driftwood tree roots. The giant turtle, impressed with A’s good manners, offered her three wishes. Her first wish was for one of the pink diamonds studding the turtle’s shell, which he was happy to give her. Her second wish was for one of the pink stars in the sky, which led to another adventure as Jinn and A climbed the turtle’s impossibly long neck and, using Jinn’s stupendously long driftwood fingers, snagged the star and put it in a magic backpack the turtle kindly provided. A’s third wish was for Jinn’s fingers to be normal again, but the turtle could not make that happen; he did, however, provide them with directions to the witch’s house, 83 miles away. Jinn and A hopped a train and—after a very odd dream where they found themselves living underwater--visited the witch, who healed Jinn’s fingers and then conjured a beautiful storm. A and Jinn found themselves taken up by the storm and dropped into a green canoe that was drifting on a large body of water. In the bottom of the boat, A found a small turtle that looked very much like their old friend the magic turtle, and turned to show Jinn. Do you know what happened next? No? Well, those are the very words that start all adventures.