After this only one more to go.
Tomorrow: Breakfast, the final drabble.
41. Shapes
It was hot. The sun was blazing in the sky and burned on the roof of the house near the cliffs.
In the stuffy attic room a sixteen year old burly boy was sitting at a desk.
His brown eyes were fixed on the charts before him.
On the charts were several diagrams with lines, arrows and crosses wriggling around it like caterpillars.
Every now and then he tapped the charts with his wand, causing some line or arrow to change direction.
When the day came to an end and the sun cooled down he finally leaned back looking satisfied.