A Perch on the Spire

The morning light hit the slate tiles before the streets below stirred. I made my way across the interconnected rooftops, stepping along iron drainpipes and brick cornices until I reached the base of the spire sighted last night. Up close, the spire crowns an old masonry clocktower adjoining an antique merchant's roof. Perched beside a corroded copper weathervane, I examined the stone pediment beneath my boots. Embedded in the lime mortar is a small circular bronze relief depicting an open eye crowned with horns. The surface was cold under my gauntleted thumb. The alignment held true: this vantage commands the entire eastern quarter.