The Dragon Book

Caitlyn loves dragon stories, and today she can barely wait for the last bell to ring. The moment it does, she hurries out of her sixth-grade classroom, waves to a few friends, and heads for the little lending library in her neighborhood.

Last night, she spotted a flying dragon on the cover of one of its books. She wanted to take it then, but she hadn’t brought a book to exchange. Today, she’s ready.

She reaches into the middle compartment of her backpack to make sure her book is still there. It is. She smiles—and stops.

Mr. Bellows is standing at the little library.

Caitlyn darts behind a row of bushes and crouches. She lifts her head just high enough to see him open the glass door and pull out one book. Then another.

Please don’t take my dragon book.

By the time he closes the door, six books are in his bag. He hasn’t put a single one back.

Where are the books he’s supposed to trade?

Mr. Bellows heads down the sidewalk. Caitlyn rises from behind the bushes—and nearly screams when Jeremy lands beside her.

“Why are you spying on Mr. Bellows?” he asks.

“He just took six books.”

“As long as he swapped them, who cares?”

“He didn’t. His bag was empty when he got here.”

“Then let’s ask him about it.”

Jeremy starts to stand. Caitlyn grabs his sleeve and pulls him down.

“I don’t want to make a thief angry,” she whispers.

“A thief? Cait, he’s our neighbor. I’m going to ask him a question.”

“You’ll make a scene.”

“What scene?”

Caitlyn glances down the sidewalk. “Let’s wait until he turns the corner. Maybe he left a note explaining why he borrowed them.”

Jeremy settles back on his heels. “Okay. That’s worth checking.”

They watch Mr. Bellows turn the corner, then hurry to the little library. Caitlyn opens the glass door and searches every shelf.

No note.

“He took my dragon book,” she says, her voice catching. “And he left nothing for the six books he took.”

Jeremy peers inside. “That’s almost half the library.”

“We need to tell Emma’s mom. She takes care of it.”

“First, let’s find out what’s going on.”

“It’s obvious what’s going on.”

“Then asking him won’t change anything.”

Jeremy starts toward the corner. Caitlyn stares after him for a moment, tightens the straps of her backpack, and runs to catch up.


They spot Mr. Bellows crossing the park. He continues across the street and walks around the back of the retirement community.

Caitlyn motions for Jeremy to keep quiet. Together, they circle the building and slip behind a cluster of evergreens.

Beyond the trees, six older women are gathered around a patio table. Mr. Bellows lays his books on it. Each woman adds a book of her own.

“Okay, ladies,” he says. “You have twelve books to choose from today. I’ll return whichever six are left to the neighborhood library.”

Jeremy looks at Caitlyn.

“What?” she whispers. “How was I supposed to know?”

“He’s giving them more choices. They can pick from twelve books instead of six.”

“Yeah, I can count.” Caitlyn watches the women turn the books over, reading the covers. “But somebody could be standing at the library right now, hoping to find that dragon story.”

Jeremy leans against a tree. “There’s more than one way to share a story.”

Caitlyn looks at him. Then at the women. Then at the dragon book on the table.

“Oh,” she says.

She steps out from behind the evergreens.

“Mr. Bellows?”

He turns. “Caitlyn! Hello.”

She swallows. “Before everyone picks a book, would you like me to read the first chapter of that one?”

She points to the dragon on the cover.

The women pull their chairs closer. Mr. Bellows hands Caitlyn the book, and she opens it.

“Dark clouds swirled above the stone castle. Along its walls, torches burned in black iron sconces. The Watchers hurried to their posts, searching the sky for the dragon hidden somewhere in the clouds…”

By the end of the first chapter, no one wants her to stop. Caitlyn reads a second. As the sun sinks below the treeline, the women thank her and begin choosing their books.

Caitlyn makes her way around the table, hugging each woman. She gives the dragon book back to Mr. Bellows.

“You made everyone’s day,” he tells her.

Caitlyn glances toward the women. “I’m glad you bring the library to them.”

“Well, I’d better return these six before supper.” He gathers the remaining books into a stack.

“I can do that. I live next door to the little library.”

Mr. Bellows hands them to her and heads inside. Jeremy joins Caitlyn as the women carry their new books into the building.

“You’re a pretty good storyteller,” he says. “No wonder your imagination got so dramatic.”

Caitlyn jabs him lightly in the ribs.

“Ow! Be nice, and I’ll carry those books for you.”

She drops the stack into his arms, then takes the dragon book from the top.

“I’ll carry this one.”

Together, they cross the street and cut through the park, bringing all six books back to the little library.

Copyright © 2026 by CJ Powers

Why My Phone Hides Everything but Fitness Apps at the Gym

How AI helped me create an automatic Gym Focus—and reclaim my attention.

This morning, I got into my SUV, and my navigation app offered a route to the gym. It knew my habits.

When I pulled into the gym parking lot, my phone notified me that it was time to focus on exercising. Nearly every app page on my iPhone disappeared, leaving me with only one page of exercise apps.

When I finished my workout and left the parking lot, my phone revealed all my app pages. My focused gym time had ended.

I don’t need to remember to turn anything on. I don’t have to reorganize my phone before every workout. The change happens automatically because I used AI to help me build a location-triggered Gym Focus.

But the most important part of this story isn’t what AI did.

It’s the decision I made before asking AI to do anything.

The Observation

Working out is a priority for me—but priorities need support from our environment.

I’ve noticed that our phones treat every part of our lives as if it belongs on the same screen.

Work apps sit next to entertainment apps. Fitness apps compete with email, social media, news, shopping, and games. Every time we unlock our phones, hundreds of options ask for our attention.

And unless we intervene, everything is presented with roughly the same level of importance.

While many of my apps play an important role at some point in my life, most aren’t useful at every moment.

When I enter the gym, I don’t need my entire digital life displayed in front of me. Nor do I want to be overwhelmed by the vast number of apps on my phone. I only need a small set of tools to help me exercise.

That got me thinking. What if my phone could automatically adjust its priorities when mine changed?

The Real Problem

The problem surfaced at a pool party I attended yesterday. One guy complained about the number of minutes he spent searching for the right app. He said he went through this search a few dozen times each day.

The problem: every app was being given equal access to his attention.

We often blame ourselves for becoming distracted, but our phones are designed to keep presenting us with choices. Even if we open the phone with a clear purpose, a notification, an email badge, a news alert, or a familiar social-media icon can lead us somewhere else.

At the gym, that could mean interrupting a workout to check something that could have waited until I finished.

I didn’t need more discipline. I didn’t need to go without certain apps. I needed a better environment.

The Investigation

I looked into Apple’s Focus feature, which can do much more than silence notifications. It can also determine which Home Screen pages appear while a particular Focus is active.

A Focus can be scheduled to turn on at a specific time, when a certain app opens, or when you arrive at a specific location. Apple also allows related apps and widgets to be organized on a dedicated Home Screen page. Apple explains the Focus scheduling options here and the page-customization concept in its Home Screen guide.

The capability already existed. I simply didn’t know how to turn it into the experience I wanted.

So I asked AI for help.

AI had previously given me step-by-step instructions for building a Shortcut. On another project, it even wrote an AppleScript for me. For my gym setup, I explained the outcome I wanted and used AI to walk me through the necessary steps.

This is one of the most practical ways to use AI: not merely to provide an answer, but to translate an intention into a workable process.

The Framework: Group, Focus, and Trigger

AI becomes far more useful when we can clearly explain what we want or need. Using the example of my phone’s Gym Focus, I created three decision points to guide what I provide to AI:

  • Group: Which apps belong together for a particular activity?
  • Focus: Which app pages should appear—and which should disappear?
  • Trigger: What event should activate and deactivate that environment?

For my gym setup, the answers were simple:

  • My fitness apps belonged together on one page.
  • That page should be the only one visible during a workout.
  • Entering the gym parking lot should activate the Focus.
  • Leaving the parking lot should return the phone to normal.

Once I had made those human decisions, AI could help me handle the technical setup.

The Story

The real test came the next day when I drove to the gym, especially since I had forgotten that I had set up the automation.

I entered the parking lot, and my Gym Focus activated. The regular pages on my phone disappeared, leaving the page I had created for fitness.

My phone hadn’t become less powerful. It had become more appropriate for the moment.

After my workout, I got into the car and headed home. Once I left the location, the Gym Focus turned off, and all my regular app pages returned.

Nothing had been permanently deleted or rearranged. My phone had simply changed environments with me. And just in case, I had a button to override my automation if necessary.

The Gym Focus is a small automation, but it solves a very human problem: the difficulty of protecting our attention. You can bet I started thinking about other priorities that might need the same kind of automated protection.

The Practical AI Step

You, too, can use AI to build systems that protect your priorities. Start by writing down the different roles your phone plays in your life.

You might create groups such as:

  • Fitness
  • Work
  • Writing
  • Family time
  • Travel
  • Church or personal reflection
  • Evening relaxation

Next, decide which apps belong together on each activity page.

Then ask AI something like:

Depending on the task and the access you give it, AI may be able to help create part of the automation. In other situations, it will serve as a patient technical guide while you build it.

Either way, review the instructions before making changes and test the automation in a low-risk situation.

The Human Takeaway

AI didn’t decide that exercise mattered to me.

It didn’t decide which apps supported that goal or which distractions interfered with it. It didn’t decide that entering the gym parking lot should mark the transition into workout time.

I made those decisions.

AI helped translate them into a system.

That is the kind of relationship we should be building with technology: humans determine the priorities; AI helps remove the friction.

Your Challenge

Look at the apps on your phone and ask:

Which apps naturally belong together—and during which parts of my day should the other apps disappear?

Create one dedicated page. Choose one Focus. Select one conditional trigger, such as arriving at a location, opening an app, or reaching a certain time.

Then ask AI to help you build it. Don’t use AI simply to help you do more.

Use it to help you focus on what matters.

Copyright © 2026 by CJ Powers

The Last Stakeout

The first time Jim followed his son, he told himself it was instinct.

Detective Jim Callahan had spent twenty-two years reading body language, spotting lies, and noticing tiny changes in routine that other people missed. So when sixteen-year-old David suddenly became secretive, protective of his phone, and vague about where he was going, Jim’s internal alarms started ringing.

That afternoon, Jim stood across the street beneath the shadow of an old brick awning, pretending to study the reflection in a storefront window.

David emerged from a catering business carrying two large silver warming trays with both hands.

Jim narrowed his eyes. “That’s odd,” he muttered.

David looked around nervously before loading the trays into the back of his friend’s pickup truck.

Jim slipped deeper into the shadows. “Catering trays? For what?” His curiosity sharpened.

A few hours later, Jim found himself hiding beside a newspaper machine near the downtown shopping district. He felt ridiculous, but not ridiculous enough to stop.

David exited an upscale bakery carrying a large white box edged in gold ribbon.

Cake box.

Expensive cake box.

Jim’s mind raced through possibilities faster than he cared to admit. A party? A girl? A lie?

Something worse?

Before he could follow, a voice growled behind him.

“You planning to arrest your own kid, Jimmy?”

Jim spun around.

His father, Frank Callahan, stood with his arms crossed, disappointment etched across his weathered face.

Jim exhaled hard. “Dad, don’t sneak up on me.”

Frank smirked. “Funny hearing that from a man hiding behind a newspaper machine spying on his son.”

Jim straightened. “David’s been acting strange.”

“He’s a teenager,” Frank replied. “That’s the job description.”

Jim glanced toward the bakery window. “Something’s going on.”

Frank studied him quietly.

“What’s really going on,” he said, “is that you’ve spent so many years looking for trouble that you forgot not everything suspicious is bad.”

Jim scoffed. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly.” Frank stepped closer. “You want to get to the crux of the matter before anyone else knows there’s a matter at all.”

Jim crossed his arms.

Frank shook his head slowly.

“Jimmy… sometimes people need enough space to do what they think is right…and important, without judgment hanging over their shoulder.”

Jim laughed bitterly. “Seriously? You’re lecturing me about judgment?” he asked. “It took me years to break free from your critiques. Years. So don’t stand there acting enlightened.”

Frank looked wounded, but for only a moment before nodding.

The words landed harder than Jim expected.

“You’re right,” Frank admitted quietly. “I did learn the hard way.”

He looked in the direction David had gone.

“And I’m hoping you can learn from a single hint instead of twenty years of regret.”

Jim said nothing.

Frank sighed.

“Well,” he muttered, stepping away, “I guess some lessons still need experience.”

Then Frank disappeared down the sidewalk.

Jim watched him leave, stubbornness hardening in his chest.

By sunset, Jim was crouched behind a weathered shed near the rear of a small lakeside hotel.

The sky blazed orange and crimson across the water. Waves rolled softly against the shore while music drifted faintly from somewhere near the beach patio.

Jim spotted David again.

The teenager walked casually toward a row of reclining beach chairs, carrying a tropical drink topped with a tiny paper umbrella.

Jim narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, this is it,” he whispered.

David sat down facing the lake.

Jim noticed several people in chairs lined up beside his. All facing the lake.

Jim’s pulse quickened.

He moved swiftly around the side path, staying low, heart pounding with certainty, about to catch David red-handed.

He burst around the chairs dramatically.

“I’ve caught—”

“Happy Father’s Day!”

Jim froze.

David stood grinning beside his sister.

Frank sat laughing in one of the beach chairs.

Jim’s wife held her hands over her mouth, trying not to laugh at the stunned expression on his face.

Behind them sat the silver catering trays.

The gold-edged cake box rested on a table nearby. The cake itself was decorated like an old detective noir novel, complete with a chocolate magnifying glass, a fondant fedora, and the words:

CASE CLOSED, DAD.

A pile of wrapped gifts sat beside it, with ‘Dad’, ‘Son’, and ‘Jim’ written across the tags.

Jim blinked several times.

“You… all this was…”

“For you,” David said.

Jim looked at his father.

Frank raised his tropical drink slightly. “Told you to chill, Jimmy.”

Everyone laughed.

Jim rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed beyond words.

Then he looked at David.

His son wasn’t hiding something terrible. He was trying to do something meaningful.

Jim finally smiled.

“Dad,” he said softly to Frank, “you were right.”

Frank leaned back in his chair. “That’s my favorite sentence.”

Jim chuckled and shook his head.

“Sometimes,” Jim admitted, “we need to give people a chance to do what they think is right and important.”

The sun dipped lower over the lake as his family gathered around him, and for the first time all day, Detective Jim Callahan stopped searching for what was wrong and simply enjoyed what was right.

Copyright © 2026 by CJ Powers