1DINT. THE ORGAN – THE THRESHOLD – CONTINUOUS1D
Through the little door in the model's harbour wall: a brass corridor, riveted, warm underfoot.
At the far end, a doorway full of daylight. It is the middle of the night.
BRÓÐIR LEIR, a harbour seal in a hooded cloak, waits with a copper lantern. His wet footprints fade on the brass.
LEIR: You waved back. Most do not.
He holds out the lantern.
LEIR: Take the lantern. It is the only honest light in here.