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A literary archive
Every story begins somewhere — in a margin note, a misheard phrase, the slant of afternoon light through a window someone once described.
Literature does not end on the page where it was printed. It migrates. It settles into other mouths, other memories, other hands that reach for a pen because something they read years ago has finally surfaced as something they need to say.
This is a graph of those migrations. At its centre: source texts — the works that have travelled furthest, lodged most stubbornly in the cultural body. Radiating outward: the stories they made possible. Each connection is a stitch. Each stitch holds something together that would otherwise drift apart.
What you are reading now is the knot at the centre of the thread. Pull gently.