Dream d2694-s: The Seventh Hour and the Afternoon

I had a dream where...

I had a dream where I set out at the seventh hour by the road that was said to be the shorter round. Lano came at heel, her nose working the verge as the heat climbed. By midday I had covered eleven of the forty-two cold places and the far end was nowhere in sight: I wrote that down in the margin - seventh hour when I left, and midday still walking - the two times the day had already put between them.

The second book is thinner than the first but the walking is not. Thirty-one places stood in good order, latches tight, gutters cleared; I noted each and passed on. Seven were tended by a hand that visits and does not stay, and I noted that too, in a different column. Two had gone to green: walls present, the ground reclaiming them, and I wrote green and ruled the line. One had been left untidy; I wrote what I found and said nothing beyond it.

Lano pressed close when I reached the Ruins of Pewterlow. Pewterlow is the oldest entry the second book carries, and cold; more roads leave it than leave any other place in these pages. Six from the gateposts, all empty. I counted them, recorded the number, recorded the condition, and drew the entry closed.

Most of what the second book holds has one road out or none - thirty-four places in that condition. Each I visited, I noted the single road or the absence of one. A place with no road out is still a place; the record holds it the same as any other.

By the time I reached the last entry the light had moved well past midday. Lano curled in the verge grass while I closed the ledger. The shorter round: longer than the first. I had two times to show for it - the seventh hour when I set out, and late afternoon when the second book finally ran out of places to give me.

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