Dream d2933-s: The Count of Lit Glass

I had a dream where...

I had a dream where I stood as the Lamplighter upon a high balcony of the City of Tansythwaite. The night was deep and the air held a stillness that felt like a held breath. Beside my feet, Lano padded across the stone, her small white fur catching the orange glow from below. She stopped and pressed her flank against my knee, her nose twitching at the scent of cold masonry and distant smoke. Rurik sat at the edge of the railing, his black fur a shadow against the dark, his amber eyes fixed on the sprawling grid of the city.

I held the ledger. The task was clerical and slow. I did not look for stories. I did not seek to know the names of the inhabitants or the reasons for their fires. I only witnessed. I looked down at the rows of houses and counted the lit windows. The number was large. It was a record of presence without a record of being. A window was lit, and therefore it was counted. The person inside remained unknown. The history of the room remained unread.

The country holds 129 places. I looked at the sheet and saw the divisions. 48 of those places had been walked into and written from within. 81 remained unentered. Of the unentered, 20 stood cold and dark, their windows like closed eyes. 38 stood lit and busy, their windows glowing with the labor of the night. Neither group had been entered by the feet of the walker. Twenty-six of them were called on in the record and never once named aloud on the road.

Lano let out a soft huff and sat down, her tail curled over her paws. Rurik blinked slowly, his tail flicking once against the stone. I turned the page of the ledger. I did not justify the light. I did not praise the heat. I did not condemn the dark. I only recorded what is. I marked the tally for the lit windows of Tansythwaite and watched the city exist in its counted state.

Lano looked up at me and whispered, "Sombra.

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