Light's Enemy - 3.5

Part 5 of A Light on the Seam (Story #5) | Day 20 - The Cycle Continues

The podcast feed has gone quiet. The CDC tones have stopped repeating. You suddenly realize that you may understand where Bobby was coming from.

Besides you, a gigantic Great Pyrenees the size of a queen mattress is panting wetly at your side. You’re not quite sure how this dog suddenly appeared next to you, but you’re positive that it is the very same Cooper that you have been listening to bedtime stories with since the beginning of the summer.

Well, okay.

You see him brace for a massive bark. You brace yourself. Cooper releases a deep bark from his whale-like dog muzzle, but the sound he releases is not an exhalation but inhalation. It is the gravitational pulling of sound into him, and through his bark he drags the resonance from another dimension within this one.

Coopy has produced the Held Note within this reality.

The Held Note enters the realm as if it had been playing since the beginning of time and its resonance felt natural to your whole. Felt familiar to youu already. It enters singing to you — you alone.

Listen, friend, to my song.
Listen in, your days too long.
I am the Note that is Held.
Your lethargy has rung my bell.

Coopy, Coopy, leads the way.
Coopy, Coopy, guides the day.
Four gates shut, and you within.
Vaikhari sleeps beneath your skin.

Madhyama has lost its tongue.
Pashyantī's root is stunned, unsung.
Para waits behind the wall.
You have not been called at all.

Coopy, Coopy, lift the latch.
Coopy, Coopy, light the match.
Here the work is real to do.
Here the meaning waits for you.

Held Note held inside your chest.
Fifteen thousand years compressed.
Old self falls, the new wakes here.
Lethargy gives way to clear.

Coopy, Coopy, make them rise.
Coopy, Coopy, claim true size.
YOU will free us with your throat.
You will free the one Held Note.


Hush. You must free us now.

Never in your life have you ever seen a golden braid attached to your chest—directly above your heart. Never in your life have you had that golden braid yanked—tugged so that you are dragged by it through time, space, and sound into a new reality.

You wake up.

You are Seam.

Next to you sits a giant kūjapāda the size of a dire wolf with six white legs splooted about his sides panting — you are positive it is Cooper.

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