In which we watch time pass. (Tales of the Mosaic - 350 Words)
Tessera
A Gally Fellow's Lens
written by LibraryOfBabel
narration and music by Jezixo
art by Costodic
The young of Hickory Street gathered on a brumal eve to look upon a strange fellow, his lanky limbs curled tight around a lamppost and his still head slumped down to greet them, with one giant eye displaying a distant sunny sky. They'd called it a portal, a porthole, a telly-scope and window, the lens of a Gally Fellow who'd show them the stars. They'd called it their own.
In rain they'd huddle beneath Ms. Cherelle's spare umbrellas and try to catch sight of King Something-Or-Other amongst the Fellow's new showings, and in sun they'd bring out blankets to set upon the pavement while his lens shifted to trawler-chased canvas fish. They'd rumor in murmurs, "What can’t this thing see?", and look on in wonder as pirates sailed on cerulean seas, making play after each new display from this Gally Fellow.
With sharpened minds they went on their ways— toward other districts and universities— and the young grew older and the younger grew old enough to want to be older still and the spare space beneath Ms. Cherelle's umbrellas grew larger with each passing year. Ms. Cherelle became Ms. Jacobs and Ms. Jacobs moved away and soon after, someone's mother had invented a Telly-scope that could be watched whenever and wherever. The sights weren’t nearly as grand but it soon became clear to actors and wide-eyed investors that citizens and their children preferred refuge from the wet weather.
The Gally Fellow stayed silent in his place, the same wonders flickering across his porthole portal, and the Telly became larger, and industry grew in kind, and the dreamers that once would visit slept in instead. The newcomers taking their place would offer the odd comment or awkward glare, though none would stop and give the Gally more than a minute of thought. Still, some days a familiar face would come and stare, lamenting duller children and worser days, but the Gally would not answer, showing its myriad glimpses of the worlds that shaped these once-had-been-children and their supposed better days, when Ms. Cherelle and those kids all huddled in the rain.