Chapter 04: Thin Cities 04

In this thin city, so emblazoned with its lofty emperors and traditions, what will become of us? The sun rises into our bedroom, pouring golden light into our sleeping faces. I push off my pillow, stretch out my arms and brush the dust from my sheets.

If I walk outside right now, I can already feel the ground move. The whispers, the whispers tell me the truth. In the courtyard, the birds sing softly, “Fire, fire, it must come.” I can already feel the smoke creep in from the old wood of the buildings, creeping in from the wooden doors and windows. Those calls, those pleas, the whispers…

Fire… Fire… Fire…

I walk barefoot on this dusty ground. Perhaps I am a pilgrim, trying to find some sort of light on the road that stretches out before me, to serve my lord, to serve the one who may ask me this strange question. In this thin city, so emblazoned with its lofty emperors and traditions, what will become of us? The streets stretch out ahead of me, stretching out for miles… Where will we go? We were forced to come to this strange place, forced to stretch our legs, exposed on a sandy floor, exposed in a crowded street, exposed in a strangely-shaped arena… The ball is tossed from one person to another, I stretch my legs, get my balance…

Perhaps I will ask my lord this strange question… This place, it stretches out before us in emptiness, many roads, so many roads stretching out, disappearing into the tangled woods on one side, stretching out until we can hardly tell where one road ends and another begins…

Many roads… far away… trees, the wind… me… stretched out in this thin place.