The Map: A Clue from the Past
The delicately creased street map came open like a piece of someone’s past. Weird markings stared back at me: circles of locations, handwriting symbols, and small notes scribbled along the edges of otherwise blank paper. Not exactly something normal for a street map, but rather like a treasure map-one twisted, curling pathway and the grandeur of landmarks poured across it. As I was perusing the thing, I noticed a signature. It was my grandfather’s, a person I had heard stories about, but whom I would be hard-pressed to describe without it being wrong.
My grandfather had long since been deceased; I never had a chance to meet the man, but my dad always spoke of him as one who was full of adventure. He was a traveler, a dreamer, and a puzzle lover. The map seemed to be part of one mystery he left behind. Curious and excited, I took the map to my dad, hoping he could make some sense of it.
