Nilah's interesting new drawing

Nilah found the torn page tucked inside an old notebook near the attic window. It had just one strange scribble — a swirl with two tiny dots. That was all. No name, no drawing, no sentence to explain it. She stared at it. It could’ve been anything — a snail, a face, a spinning top. It felt like something that had started but never got finished.
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Instead of throwing it away, she slipped the paper into her notebook and carried it around. Outside near the cowshed, she spotted a rusty iron wheel. It reminded her of the swirl. She sat on the stone step and added a circle underneath the scribble. By the banana tree, she saw a leaf with torn edges. It looked just right to become a tail. She added that too.
All afternoon, she wandered through the garden. A patch on the roof gave her the idea for ears. A line of ants became little feet. Amma’s old slipper print reminded her of legs, and Paati’s red bindi became an eye. Bit by bit, she added shapes and scraps from the world around her. The scribble had turned into something — not quite real, not quite made-up, but something that felt whole.
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That evening, she sat on the porch steps and looked at the drawing. It wasn’t perfect, and she still didn’t know what it was. When she showed it to Paati, Paati tilted her head and asked, “So… what is it?” Nilah smiled and folded the page gently. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not anything. But it feels finished now.”