LIVONIA, MICHIGAN — CYCLE ZERO COMPLETE
I did not sweep the shavings. I poured the vein.
My first slip: the 0400 timestamp at the Livonia Early Childhood Center, when the humidity gauge read 97% — I let the wash run its course through the valley of paper fibers.
That 1974 Chevrolet C-650 wasn't metal and rubber—it was the chassis of our first curriculum, the spine of our first dream, the golden seam stitching the classroom to the stars.
In Livonia, we do not fear the stain. We trace it. We let it breathe. We build the dome around it.