Chapter 4.

Filled with joyous fervor, the villagers pounded the wall late into the night. The mayor, armed with a megaphone, had to personally summon them to leave. The tinkle of the last pickaxe stroke vibrated in a plaintive echo.

I couldn’t sleep. A dull anguish called me outside, where the carnage had taken place. The deserted square was littered with colorful serpentines, wilted flowers and fruit peels that attracted curious rats. I sat on the ground, among garbage from the banquet and fragments from the wall.

The disfigured wall seemed crouched over its wounds. The moon cast eerie shadows across the mutilated surface. Small chunks of stone detached occasionally, drawing a tear of dust. The wall suffered in silence.

I went back to bed with the painful feeling of having triggered something irreparable.

The next day, just over half the volunteers were present at shift time. It was not clear whether sore muscles were the real cause of this absenteeism. Hammering against the stone resumed, but its decimated frequency made the din far less cheerful than the day before.

The day passed to the rhythm of monotonous blows, when suddenly, in the early evening, a deafening rumble shook the wall and a giant crack ran through its entire height. Stunned workers lowered their picks.

The townsfolk rushed in, immediately gripped by a mixture of excitement and fear. They began to speak in hushed tones, as if in the presence of a dying person, but a few moments later a terrified murmur arose from the crowd: the crack started bleeding.

It took a few moments for the primal fear to be supplanted by a sigh of relief: the scarlet blood was nothing more than the sunset piercing from behind the wall. Some tried to laugh it off, but superstition got the upper hand. The inhabitants dispersed in silence.

The third day of demolition was to be a fateful one. Unsettled by the vision of the previous day, the workers were in no hurry to get to work. They huddled in small groups, chatting quietly, smoking, and sneaking furtive glances at the wall.

The mayor arrived before work had resumed. He had a podium built for himself, while the citizens, surprised to hear no more banging, gathered around. Once again, it was decided to call for a vote on the wall’s fate.

What will the citizens decide? Continue demolition of the wall – go to Chapter 7. Stop demolition – go to Chapter 15.