Not broken. Not buried. Gone. In its place, a line of fresh-turned earth, black and wet, as if the ground itself had been unzipped and pulled back. And beyond that— new ground. Streets she didn’t recognize, cobbled in pale stone that seemed to drink the light. Houses with doors that stood ajar, leading into perfect, dusty silence. A well in a square that she knew, from old maps, shouldn’t exist.
Today, the wall was gone.
The turned earth behind her was gone. In its place, a row of houses that hadn’t been there a moment before. Their windows were lit. Inside, silhouettes stood very still, watching her. condemned town expanded