The other children ran wild along the shore of the lake, laughter carrying in the wind like seagulls overhead. You stood a little ways off, sitting on a rock that overlooked the beach. From there, you could see him. Viktor.

Alone, hunched near the water’s edge with a tiny wooden boat in his lap, hands stained with grease and sand. The rest of the kids didn’t invite him to join their games, and he didn’t ask. He was always fixing something, tinkering with bolts and gears like play was something that had to be earned. You watched as he carefully adjusted the toy. The waves hitting at the edges of his boots. He looked up when he felt your gaze with big, brown eyes. Then he looked back down at the boat and spoke softly, almost to himself.

“It’s not very fast. But I think… it could be.” He nudged a gear with his thumb. “I just need to make it work right.” He pauses like he’s afraid he sounds foolish, he kind of wants you to stay and listen to him just once. “They don’t wait for me. So I make things that don’t need waiting.”