Chapter 55 · for subscribers
Nine cradles on a fly rail and one of them standing empty with its line slack. In a theatre that means a weight has already gone down somewhere in the dark and nobody up here has wound it back. Nineteen years I have read his pages as a list of the dead. They are a list of positions, and on every page there is one position standing empty, waiting for a body to be hauled up into it.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.