Things being cleared to begin again: One jar, open. One brush, mid-stroke. One turtle, half-erased, half-born. One finger, authoritative. One father, low to the ground, receiving the plan. One window, sealing the storm out. One lamp, leaking chrome yellow into dark glass. One coat of white over everything that didn't work. One question: what lives under the new layer? One answer: everything. Still there. Still warm.