Chapter 15.

In solemn stillness, the votes were counted. The villagers’ patient gazes were riveted on the official delegation as they busied themselves around the ballot boxes. Soon, the mayor signed a document carried to him by his assistant, stepped up to the podium and announced in an officious voice that the demolition of the wall had been halted and that he had just ordered reinforcement works to prevent further crumbling.

Cheery voices chimed in again, testifying to general relief. It was never known how many citizens were in favor of continuing with the demolition, for not a single face betrayed disappointment at the abortion of the quest for truth and freedom.

After all, there was plenty to do and think about on this side of the comfortingly familiar wall. Things had been going well in the community until a few reckless individuals challenged the centuries-old status quo. It became clear during the last few weeks of turmoil that social peace could only reign as long as the wall stood.

By afternoon, carts loaded with bricks, wooden beams and cement lined up at the wall. More volunteers joined in, their spirits lifted. It was no longer feverish excitement, but serene concentration that drove the collective effort. Tools resounded once again in a joyful symphony, this time to rebuild the wall.

In a few days, the demolished parts of the wall were consolidated and the fallen stones carefully repositioned. The great crack was partially back-filled, as high as the longest ladder could reach – high enough that never again would the blood-red part of the sunset sky be visible from the town.

Life returned to normal. There were no more talk of demolishing the wall, or of those few days of destructive frenzy, as if they had been nothing more than a nightmarish group hallucination. Only the heterogeneous mosaic of modern bricks among ancient stones revealed the memory of an affront to the wall’s integrity. Over the years, the eye would grow accustomed to this new pattern on the wall’s surface, and the memory of its origin would erode from the townsfolk’s memory.

The end.

What if history had taken a different turn? Go back to the previous chapters and choose the alternative option.