The Followling

The next morning someone was at the tower.

Not on your doorstep.

Next to the second chair.

He was younger than Tersake, older than he looked, and wore a coat with inside pockets that still had nothing in them.

'Are you The Followling?' asked Kwartsoog.

The boy shook his head.

'The Followling.'

'What's the difference?'

'A successor knows who he replaces.'

Tersake looked up. It remained quiet upstairs.

'And you?'

'I am following what has not yet happened.'

Tersake found this administratively untenable.

He opened his briefcase, but remembered he was going to leave it closed. So he put it beside the chair and poured coffee.

'Where do you come from?'

The Followling pointed to It Paad.

“From further away.”

“There is nothing there.”

'Not yet.'

At that moment, a narrow side road appeared next to the tower. It walked between two trees and disappeared just before it became clear where it was going.

Kwartsoog picked up his pencil.

“Should I draw it in?”

The Followling looked at the empty spot on the map.

'No. Otherwise everyone will know where it starts.'

Upstairs Notsnol knocked twice.

The Followling knocked back once.

Then somewhere in Sursirai a door opened that no one had built yet.