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| Slashing the Earth in Twain |
It arose seemingly
overnight. Where once only a gentle slope separated the fertile
plateaus of Fencebroke Promontory's farmland from the untamed valleys
below, now stood a mighty barrier wall. Towering three bricks tall in
places and stretching from one horizon to the other, the looming
edifice erupted from the very earth to set in stone the boundaries of
natural law. On this side crops would grow; mouths would be fed;
civilizations would flourish. On the other: the tribes of chaos.
Though no one
could explain its creation, many would try. Tales were spun and
carried down through the years, each proclaiming a different motive
force, a different mind, a different hand stacking fired red clay to
divide the land. All these naught but woven lies, born of fear and
ancient distrust.
“Can't you see,
the wall was placed to guard our crops from jealous, lowland
barbarians. Thank the gods, we will be safe up here amongst the
rutabagas, for no siege could ever topple our massive, mortared
fortr—eh,
what's that? They
didn't use any mortar? … Oh. Well, still … no invading force
could ever overcome the … uh, massive psychological barrier of our
imposing—though
admittedly fragile—wall!”
And dissenting
lore from the other side:
“Clearly, the
gods saw fit, at long last, to halt the marching empire of the
produce. Each year, they spread into our territory, taking more and
leaving us less. But no longer! This backyard will not belong to the
carrots! Thank the gods, the cancerous garden has been forever
banished behind this impregnable wall of mortared brick and—oh
dear … did that one there just fall over? I see. Well … so long
as no one … uh, bumps into the impregnable wall, we should be
reasonably safe from the imperial veggies. Could someone put that
brick back, please?”
Though neither
side could ever truly grasp the motivation of whatever all-powerful
force erected the Great Wall in such haste, there was one one matter
upon which they agreed: the wall itself was of poor quality. In
recognition of this undeniable truth, an accord was reached to the
satisfaction of all parties, wherein no roughhousing or shenanigans
would be tolerated in the vicinity of the wall—lest
the beloved, timeless monolith crumble from the glancing impact of a
stray soccer ball or paper airplane.
