chapter i / the left rail
The first chapter begins in the margin.
Every good quest starts with a mark on paper: a small cross, a bent arrow, a note that says ask again later. Here, chatter becomes cartography. The informal tumble of gabbing is given a careful grid, then set loose to wander.
The page is measured, but the route is not. Swiss order gives the eye a place to stand while the story draws its own coastline in pastel ink.