Zips and tears

On the wall a zip is a way through. A strip of blue cloudy sky has been parted down the middle and shows a starry night with the Milky Way behind it; a strip of dry sand runs out into the ocean with a wall of curling waves standing along each side, undone down the middle like a coat; a cliff of red sandstone is unzipped on a hidden jungle; stalactites frame a narrow turquoise opening in a cave like the teeth of one; a long centipede is the zip on a red tent; a blue work jacket’s zip is half closed, with a row of frayed round bites along it. Where there is no zip there is a tear: a red kite tears a bright triangular opening through a blue sky, swallows fly into a narrow black rip stretched across a grey one, and a crumpled kite lies on a ploughed field with its string pulled taut up to a pinched knot of blue sky.

The Slopwright mends the torn edge of the night in The Night Mender, and Golden Thread starts at the seam, where he stitches. The codex proposes that the zips and the tears are the same kind of opening as the seam, and that the repairs on the wall are the closing of them. Whether anyone pulls the tab is left open: no picture shows a hand on one. This entry is proposed by the codex, from pictures on the wall that are all machine-made, and is not canon until approved.