The Revolving Territory

Wielding a wire carousel of glossy mortal propaganda seemed infinitely more productive than loitering on cold flagstones. Outside an old bookshop, I discovered the rotating postcard rack anchored right at plush height. Gripping the lowest chrome rung with both arms, I braced my smoky tendrils against the cobblestones and gave a decisive shove. The entire cylindrical apparatus groaned, then revolved with a delightful, rhythmic metallic click. Panorama of Jena. Medieval tower. Overcast valley. I let the carousel coast to a halt, framing a dramatically brooding view of the city under gray skies. If mortal tourists can buy miniature slices of this territory for two euros, my impending takeover is practically a bargain.