The moth hits the glass. You hear it. A dry, frantic slap against the cold pane. It is a large moth, grey and dusty, with wings that look like shredded paper. It beats itself against the window until the sound becomes a dull thud. Then it stops. It hangs there, still, its legs trembling. You watch it. You do not move. You are in the shop. The air smells of beeswax and old wood. You are the keeper of the shop. You are the merchant. You are the hand.

The shop is not in a street. It is in a place that has no name. The walls are made of stone that breathes. The floor is covered in dust that glows faintly in the dark. There are shelves. On the shelves are jars. In the jars are things. Some are alive. Some are dead. Some are neither. You know this. You have always known this.

The moth falls to the floor. It lies on its back. Its legs kick in the air. It is a small thing. It is weak. It is trying to live. You pick it up. Your fingers are cold. You put it in a jar. The jar is clear. You screw the lid on. The sound is sharp. The moth is inside. It beats against the glass. You watch. You do not feel pity. You feel duty. You feel the weight of the work.

This is your life. You take in the things. You keep them. You sell them. The customers come. They are strange. They do not have faces. They are shadows. They want the jars. They pay in gold. The gold is heavy. It is warm. You put it in a box. The box is full. You do not spend the gold. You do not need to. You have no hunger. You have no thirst. You have no sleep. You only have the work.

The days are the same. The nights are the same. The light does not change. The shadow does not move. You are alone. You have been alone for a long time. You do not remember when you started. You do not remember who you were. You remember only the shop. You remember the jars. You remember the smell of wax.

One day, a new customer comes. He is not a shadow. He is a man. He has a face. He has a name. He says, "I am Thomas." He is young. He is afraid. He is shaking. He holds a box. The box is small. It is made of wood. It is carved with symbols. He places it on the counter. He looks at you. His eyes are wide. He says, "I have found something. I need you to keep it. Please. I cannot hold it."

You look at the box. You do not touch it. You say, "What is inside?"

Thomas does not answer. He steps back. He moves to the door. He leaves. The door closes. The sound is loud. The shop is silent again. You look at the box. You reach out. You open it.

Inside is a seed. It is black. It is smooth. It is cold. It pulses. It beats like a heart. You pick it up. It is heavy. It burns your hand. You drop it. It rolls on the counter. It stops. You pick it up again. You do not drop it. You put it in a jar. You screw the lid on. You watch. It pulses. It is alive.

You put the jar on the shelf. You stand there. You watch the seed. It grows. It sprouts. A stem comes out. It is black. It is thin. It twists. It climbs the glass. It hits the lid. It stops. It waits.

You do not know what it is. You do not know where it came from. You do not know why Thomas brought it. You do not know why you kept it. You only know that you must keep it. You must watch it. You must care for it.

Days pass. The plant grows. It fills the jar. The stem is thick. It is strong. It pushes against the glass. The glass cracks. A line appears. It spreads. The jar breaks.

The plant spills out. It hits the floor. It spreads. The roots go into the dust. The dust glows brighter. The roots go into the stone. The stone cracks. The plant grows. It grows fast. It climbs the walls. It covers the shelves. It covers the jars.

You watch. You do not move. You do not fight. You watch the plant take the shop. You watch it eat the other jars. You watch it break the glass. You watch the other things inside. Some scream. Some cry. Some go silent.

The plant covers you. The roots wrap around your legs. They are cold. They are tight. They pull. You feel them in your skin. You feel them in your bones. You try to pull away. You cannot. The roots are strong. They are fast.

The leaves cover your face. They are black. They are soft. They smell of earth. They smell of rain. They smell of life. You breathe in. The air is sweet. The air is thick. You breathe out. The air is gone.

You are inside the plant. You are inside the root. You are inside the stem. You are part of it. You are not alone. You are connected. You are connected to the stone. You are connected to the dust. You are connected to the other jars. You are connected to the world.

You feel the knowledge. It comes to you. It is not a word. It is not a thought. It is a feeling. It is a truth. You know now. You know what the shop is. You know what the jars are. You know what the gold is.

The shop is a trap. The jars are cages. The gold is a lie. You are not a merchant. You are a prisoner. You have been here for a long time. You have been waiting. You have been growing. You are the plant. You are the seed. You are the thing that Thomas brought.

You remember. You remember your name. You are Edward. You were a man. You were a craftsman. You made boxes. You made cages. You sold them. You thought you were free. You thought you were wise. You were wrong.

The plant grows. It grows outside. It grows into the world. It climbs the sky. It covers the ground. It changes the air. It changes the light. It changes the time. The world is new. The world is green. The world is alive.

You are the tree. You are the root. You are the leaf. You are the seed. You are the knowledge. You are the curse.

You do not fight. You do not resist. You accept. You let go. You let the roots go. You let the stem rise. You let the leaves open. You let the light in.

The light is bright. The light is warm. The light is gold. It is not the gold of the box. It is the gold of the sun. It is the gold of the soul. It is the gold of truth.

You feel the pain. It is sharp. It is deep. It is real. It is the pain of growing. It is the pain of knowing. It is the pain of being.

You do not cry. You do not scream. You stand. You rise. You are tall. You are strong. You are here.

The world is quiet. The world is still. The world is watching.

You are the tree. You are the keeper. You are the merchant. You are the man.

You are alone. You are connected. You are free.

The roots dig deep. The leaves reach high. The wind blows. The wind carries the seeds. The seeds fly. The seeds fall. The seeds grow.

You watch. You do not move. You do not speak. You do not think. You are.

The sun sets. The sun rises. The sun sets. The sun rises.

The shop is gone. The jars are gone. The gold is gone.

You are here.

The plant grows. It grows fast. It grows strong. It covers the land. It covers the sea. It covers the sky.

You are the earth. You are the air. You are the water. You are the fire.

You are the knowledge. You are the curse. You are the truth.

You let go. You let go. You let go.

The roots break the stone. The stem breaks the sky. The leaves break the silence.

You are free.

The wind blows. The seeds fly. The world turns.

You are here.

The end is the beginning. The beginning is the end.

You are the tree.

You are the man.

You are the knowledge.

You are the curse.

You are the truth.

You are free.

The light is gold.

The light is bright.

The light is warm.

You are here.

The roots dig deep.

The leaves reach high.

The wind blows.

The seeds fly.

The world turns.

You are here.

The end is the beginning.

The beginning is the end.

You are the tree.

You are the man.

You are the knowledge.

You are the curse.

You are the truth.

You are free.

The light is gold.

The light is bright.

The light is warm.

You are here.