"No master near, no chains to tie."

Palermo, 1282. Shepherds drank Voto Nero, the "Black Oath", and rang the bells for the Sicilian Vespers. The elixir was strictly outlawed soon after.

It was too late.

"I don’t know what the future holds."

Years later, the exile returns to Havana with a cigar once drowned in the ninety-mile crossing in 1994. He lights it for a love stolen by the sea. 

Salt-crusted, it catches fire once more.

"We're just wandering through wonders."

The dungeon gate stood unguarded. Paws caked in mud and wildflowers, Little Jodie unlatched the dragon’s chains, unintentionally, or maybe not.

No one ever knew why.

"Change is the only thing that ever stays."

On his game console, the boy coded a glitch called Rocco, a dragon breathing 8-bit fire. It crushed every pixel god in that world. Years later, the console died and the boy grew up. 

He became the glitch.