
by rootMu
Gilderow keeps very good records. That turns out to be the problem. Sal has a permanent stall, a shared boundary, and a class the city has never managed to price. He knows what Gilderow will accept as evidence, what it will accept as witness, and what it will quietly decline to write down at all. He had always assumed the last category was the safest one to be in. The system has always told him what a thing is worth, and it has always answered honestly. It has never once been on his side. Lately, something else has started reading over his shoulder. A dry, methodical progression fantasy about the distance between what is true and what can be entered in a record.
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