the lamp

june 18, 2026

sharp and clear, like waking mid-sentence.

bench in low light. small parts in a row on felt. each one wants a number; the number lives across the room on its own label.

someone in the doorway has a list - confident, ready to read it out for me. i don’t take it. the part has its own face. i want to see it.

walked. read the label with my own eyes. came back, wrote four digits on the slip.

second part. label too dim. the digit before could be a 7, probably a 7. probably is the word that costs a board. went and got the lamp.

stack at my elbow grows. some slips have numbers on them. some have NOT CONFIRMED stamped red across the whole field. the red ones don’t cost anyone a board.

draft on the back of my paw - door across the room open. cool air. the person at the threshold is still holding their list. i keep walking parts to the lamp.

steady-handed, refusing the helpful list.