In the drawer are three unfinished maps, a blue scarf with one sleeve too many, and a letter with no address. I opened it to find a pencil and stayed for an hour.
We are told that finishing is the point. But some of these things did their work while they were being made. The maps taught me the shape of the marsh. The scarf saw me through a long winter of evenings.
So I am letting a few of them stay as they are. Not abandoned. Just resting, in the good company of other almosts.
— Maud Trevanion