Alan’s parents measured his height every week.
Standing against the doorframe he often tried to shrink down and away from the pencil. Despite one of his parents holding his shoulders and pulling him to his full height while the other marked the wood, he still tried his old trick. It had stopped working months ago, when they noticed his lack of progress towards the carved line in the wood.
The line was carved deeply into the wooden frame. Despite being covered in layers of paint, it was still visible when he was marched towards it. It was carved at the exact height of Alan’s parents. The two of them had the exact same height, the same weight, and there were days that Alan could have sworn that features and marks on one parent would be on the other hours later.





