The alley Sane pointed down to was named Coal Wharf alley, thrusting deep between two rows of pitch-black smoke-stained inns, one end jutting out to the river bank, the other end jutting straight into a lamppost.
The lamppost belonged properly to the city, having a glass cover, even having a brass plate engraving a number. However, the last time it lit was since the time old Jonas still had fully two rows of teeth, calculating it must also be twelve years, therefore the alley residents only used it to tie clotheslines and for dogs to pee.
Old Jonas worked the profession of copying petitions for hire before the Petition Manor, anyone having to submit a petition to three boards then he copied fully three copies, every copy one copper coin, at night returning then crawled into the hollow under the inn's stairs to sleep. Tonight he was dreaming seeing the Royal Family opening adding a fourth board when being shined straight into his eyelids by a light streak.
