Chapter 3.

I waited until nightfall before embarking on my audacious venture. I had been meditating on this process for years. As a child, I would often imagine myself as a pioneer conqueror of the wall, reaching its summit by flight aboard an elaborate mechanism, or climbing by sheer strength of arms.

As I grew older, I began to make more methodical observations, eventually learning by heart the part of the wall overlooking my neighborhood, with all its cracks and asperities. Having matured my decision, I knew exactly where I was going to attempt my ascent.

An inconspicuous spot between the wall and the windowless factory building, a den of stray cats marked by the indelible smell of urine, was an ideal starting point for climbing without being seen. Moreover, the factory’s blind rear facade was high enough to conceal my ascent until I was out of the jaded citizen’s field of vision.

I was a pretty good climber and had all the necessary equipment to make my ascension easy and safe. Dressed in dark supple garments that would not impede my movements, skillfully coiled with ropes and adorned with hooks and carabiners, I made my way through the silent streets of the night.

As I reached the wall, I stroked my fingers over its cold rough surface, as though greeting my rival before the confrontation. I placed the first holds and began my ascent. According to my calculations, I ought to reach the top before dawn.

Propelled by excitement, I did not feel the hours fly by. The wall was docile, welcoming my holds without resistance, offering me here and there prominences and slits to rest on. Over my shoulder, the moon, like an attentive helper, cast light on the tiniest irregularities in my trajectory.

I hoisted myself onto the top of the wall just as a delicate filament of light began to form on the horizon. My heart, which had been beating like a drum inside my head, fell silent, and my soul cleared of all emotion. I existed only through my eyes locked on the horizon. The real horizon, which was nowhere streaked by the wall.

Apart from it, there was nothing. As far as my eyes could see, on the other side of the wall was a vast smooth desert without any relief or vegetation.

I fixed the anchors and let myself glide towards the unknown in a controlled descent that seemed longer than my ascension. It was almost daylight when I touched ground. The desert now reflected the hue of the lightening sky, as if covered in snow. Marveling at this foreign landscape, I forgot the wall behind me.

What should the narrator do? Follow the wall – go to Chapter 9. Walk towards the desert – go to Chapter 14.