Chapter 10 - The Unbroken Horizon
Three days after the great Holstead Exodus, the desert returned to its timeless, majestic solitude.
I sat at my drafting desk inside the main studio, the afternoon sun casting long, golden geometric patterns across the polished concrete floors. My laptop screen displayed a new architectural project—a sustainable, off-grid desert research station commissioned by a university in Tucson.
My phone buzzed on the desk.
It wasn't a family group chat notification. Those had been permanently muted and archived.
It was a text from Drew:
“Hey man. Just wanted to check in. Mom and Dad are still sulking, and Gretchen is moving out of her apartment to crash with a friend. Thanks for... well, thanks for holding the line. I know it was brutal.”
I smiled, tapped out a quick reply:
“Doors are always open for you, Drew. Just wipe your feet before you cross the threshold.”
I locked my phone, set it face-down on the wooden desk, and looked out the massive floor-to-ceiling glass wall.
Out in the courtyard, the saguaro cacti stood tall and unyielding against the horizon, their green arms stretching toward an endless blue sky. No junk piles. No uninvited guests. No elaborate illusions.
May you like
Just raw, beautiful reality, built from the ground up, owned by nobody else, and protected by boundaries that could never be breached again.
I picked up my drafting pencil, pressed the graphite firmly against the clean white paper, and began to draw.
