![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Eventually the road takes you to London, but London is a whole night's drive from Wall. Followed far enough south, out of the forest, the track becomes a real road, paved with asphalt followed further the road gets larger, is packed at all hours with cars and trucks rushing from city to city. There is one road from Wall, a winding track rising sharply up from the forest, where it is lined with rocks and small stones. The houses of Wall are square and old, built of grey stone, with dark slate roofs and high chimneys taking advantage of every inch of space on the rock, the houses lean into each other, are built one upon the next, with here and there a bush or tree growing out of the side of a building. ![]() The town of Wall stands today as it has stood for six hundred years, on a high jut of granite amidst a small forest woodland. The tale started, as many tales have started, in Wall. There was once a young man who wished to gain his Heart's Desire.Īnd while that is, as beginnings go, not entirely novel (for every tale about every young man there ever was or will be could start in a similar manner) there was much about this young man and what happened to him that was unusual, although even he never knew the whole of it. In Which We Learn of the Village of Wall, and of theĬurious Thing That Occurs There Every Nine Years ![]()
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