It’s still a rad jar, she says.
What will you do with it?
I don’t know.
Maybe I can keep some clay from here?
Maybe since we’ve mixed
so much together
all of it is magical now?
Malia reaches into the water,
away from where
it starts to flow into a stream,
comes back with a handful
of goopy mud.
We pry it off her hand into the jar,
then close the latch.