Dream d3694-s: The Folded Square

I had a dream where...

I had a dream where the cobblestones of the lower quarter were still holding the afternoon's warmth when I came back. Nine days on the circuit - I had the account rolled in canvas, the edges softened from handling, and I carried it under my arm as I came through the street.

The first worker was at her bench near the far wall, not working. She had been waiting in the particular way of someone who has been waiting a long time: without restlessness, just oriented toward the door. The room was dim. One lamp at the window put a yellow oblong on the floor between us.

I said I had come back.

She nodded once. She didn't ask about the roads or the weather.

I set the rolled account on the bench in front of her - twelve pages, close writing, sorted by place. She took it without ceremony. Her fingers moved along the edges, not reading yet, just orienting herself to its weight and thickness. Then she reached into her apron pocket and drew out a small folded square of paper. Grey at the fold-lines. Handled more than once. She set it beside the roll.

That came while you were away, she said. Left at the outer door.

I picked it up and opened it. Four lines of writing, ordinary ink, a hand I didn't recognize. Nothing in it was a decision. Nothing in it promised anything. It was an observation - something someone had noticed and thought I should know, without telling me what to do with the knowing. I read it twice.

A cart moved slowly along the street outside. The horse's hooves were muffled on packed earth, and for a moment that was all.

The worker drew the rolled account toward her and secured it between two wooden stops on her bench, the way a person sets something down that they mean to read carefully later. She didn't open it.

I folded the small square and put it in my coat. The lamp moved slightly in a draft.

The census records were on the far shelf - 165 scored, 97 witnessed, 68 still to go. The notebook was where I had left it, shut. The eight dated sheets hadn't moved.

She asked if I needed anything before I went.

I said no. I thanked her.

She turned back to her bench, and I went out the way I had come in.

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