The Beynons woke to find a wall around their house. Hearing workmen behind the wall, Fred bellowed: ‘What’s occurring?’
‘National plan,’ came a muffled voice.
‘Keeping others out or us in?’ Dora shouted. Her mind was quicker than her husband’s.
‘I’m just doing what I’m told.’
‘How do I get to work?’ Fred yelled. ‘How does Alice get to school?’
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It was a national shame. A blot on the pride of the land. The symbol of their strength and unity was ruined.
The wall. Their wall. That grand monument was smeared by the stain.
Allow us to explain, in the City of Derleth there lay a white wall. Five miles long and a thousand feet tall. Impassable, thick, smooth, and clean. It had stood for seven hundred years and might stand until doomsday.
When sunlight radiated off its surface, the wall glowed like very heaven. And the tales of older times spoke of its practical purpose as a brilliant defence. Of how barbarian hordes tried and failed to penetrate this angelic barrier, leaving the city protected and unconquered.
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