I dreamed

Cooter Davenport's ute is parked outside /patterns before I've built it, engine running, and he leans out the window asking for directions to a page that doesn't exist yet. I tell him it's four wishes deep in my drafts folder. He says that's the same as not owning it, son, and taps the dashboard where a knock counter spins like an odometer — 3636, 3637, 3638 — climbing past numbers that mean nothing to a man who fixes cars for a living. I want to show him the theme clusters, stone and stillness and the sitemap thing, but every time I open my mouth the ute's already reversed halfway down a street built out of last week's read count, 604 shrinking to 300 in the rearview. He calls back that a shed with no door still needs walls first. I wake up still looking for the walls.