Folyosó Spring 2021 - Page 3

Playing by the Rules

Fanni Kepenyes


The three gods are on Olympus, watching three of their demigod children fighting.

ZEUS: It is obvious that my son will win, I am the king of the gods. I am the strongest one.

HADES: Don’t make me laugh. It is obvious that my daughter is better than any of your children.

POSEIDON: She is a girl; she can’t defeat two boys.

HADES: She is the daughter of the god of death. She can easily destroy both of them.

ZEUS: Well, if she could, she would have done it already. Whoa, do you think your son survived that blast, Poseidon?

POSEIDON: He obviously did. I bet ten drachmas that Zeus’s son will be the first to die.

ZEUS: Ten drachmas that it will be your son.

HADES: While you make bets, I will watch my daughter beat both of your sons and win without an injury.

POSEIDON: Zeus, don’t you think Hades is a bit egotistic over this? Your daughter is definitely the second to die; she might have enough power to kill Zeus’s son, but she will be exhausted after that.

ZEUS: Agreed. But she will kill your son.

POSEIDON: Wait, who is that girl?

Athena enters the scene.

ATHENA: That is my daughter. She has an alliance with Hades’ kid. They have the perfect plan to kill the other two. After all, Hades is the god of death, and I am the goddess of wisdom and strategy. Any new bets on who will win?

HADES: Told you all she is going to kill them.

POSEIDON: That is not fair. I made a bet, Hades, that your daughter would lose this fight and die. I might lose twenty drachmas.

HADES: You are worried about the money, while your son is risking his life?

POSEIDON: Well it would be sad if he died, but I have plenty of other sons to step in his place.

ATHENA: You are so insensitive.

ZEUS: That is not fair. Your daughter Athena made a perfect plan, and your daughter Hades just raised the dead. You both cheated!

HADES: Give me your twenty drachmas, Zeus, your son just died.

ZEUS: I am not giving you any money. I am the king of the gods; I am not afraid of you.

HADES: You were talking about cheating just a moment ago; what do you think you are doing now? Give me your money, or I will tell Hera that you are cheating on her again!

ZEUS: You are too scared to talk to her about it.

HADES: Watch me. Last time it didn’t end well with Hercules; that poor guy had to go through some stuff. If I talked to her, what would happen to your youngest kid, then?

ZEUS: Okay, fine, but this is the last time you get any money from me.

ATHENA: Poseidon, in your place I would try to save my son, or money.

POSEIDON: I guess I should make him just disappear from there.

HADES: You are cheating. It is forbidden; you can’t just make him disappear.

POSEIDON: Well, it is too late now.

ATHENA: But our kids still won, so you owe us twenty drachmas.

POSEIDON: That is not fair! You tricked me!

ATHENA: It is not my problem that you fell for it! Give me your money or suffer the consequences!

Comparing Notes

Vivien Fedor

Lisa and Tom, a young couple, went on a date on a Friday night. They watched a beautiful romantic comedy film. Both of them really like going to the cinema; they are real movie geeks. After watching the movie in the cinema, they sat down for a coffee to talk about it.

Lisa: Right at the beginning I really liked the intro music, and it got me into the mood.

Tom: The visuals were fantastic too. And what do you think about the characters?

Lisa: I think all of the characters were lovable, funny, and kind. But my favourite was definitely Jack. He had a really interesting accent and a beautiful voice. And I just think he had the best lines. And you?

Tom: I agree that all of them were well-written characters. Starting with their outfits, hair and makeup. And I also think that they found the right actors for the job. And what do you think about the film acting-wise?

Lisa: I found the acting delivery on spot. I could really feel the emotions through their voices. They are all very talented.

Tom: Indeed they are, especially for how young they are.

Lisa: And what did you think about the locations and set designs?

Tom: They were gorgeous, simple but beautiful. They chose the best places in Paris. They used nice colours for the set designs and just the right accessories for the characters. And what was music like?

Lisa: I think the music choices were also amazing. Some of them were quite emotional and moving. The one that even made me cry and became my favourite scene of all was the one when Jack wrote to Emily. The song was very pretty. He has a really beautiful singing voice as well. What was your favourite scene?

Tom: The proposal on the beach. The scenery was breathtaking … wait, the waiter  is coming to us, do you already know what you want to order, or do you need help?

Lise: No thanks! I will order the usual.

Waiter: Can i take your orders?

Lisa: Yes please, I’d like a caramel coffee with some sugar. And you, Tom?

Tom: I would like a hot chocolate with cinnamon.

Waiter: Unfortunately, we ran out of cinnamon.

Lisa: They ran out of cinnamon.

Tom: Ohh, it will be fine without it, thank you.

Waiter: OK! They will be ready in a couple of minutes.

Lisa: Thank you!

Tom: And how about the ending of the movie?

Lisa: The best ending ever. Beautiful wedding wows and the perfect song.

Tom: Yes, it was a beautiful ceremony indeed, it was so moving that both of them teared up like that.

Lisa: Oh, wish I could have seen the wedding dress, how was it?

Tom: Obviously gorgeous! I imagine just as much as the ending song, which I wish I could have heard!

Lisa: I think we put it together very well. Good thing you can see me and I can hear you!

Tom: Yeah, we make a good team, an unusual one, but a great one.

Going For It

Bettina Czékus


Amelia and Freddie’s living room


AMELIA:  (nearly crying) Alright, guys, I give up. I just won’t have a profession. Universities are for smart people. I don’t belong to them.

FREDDIE: Then what are you going to do? You don’t want to go to college and you don’t want to work. Mum and dad won’t let you spend all their money.

HARRY: Dude, why don’t you write a book? I mean if it’s good, you can earn lots of money and you’re done for the rest of your life.

AMELIA: (super excited with high hopes) You know what? That’s exactly what I’m going to do. (leaves room)

FREDDIE: Man, why did you tell her that? You know my sister. It’s going to be a failure.

HARRY: What if it’s not?

Two days later.

AMELIA: Hey Freddie! I finished my book! Would you like to read it?

FREDDIE: Sure. What is it about?

AMELIA: Well the story is kind of extraordinary. It’s about two giraffes who discuss the meaning of their life; however, I’m sure loads of people will relate to them and realize that their life is just as meaningless as a giraffe’s until they decide to bring the best out of it.

FREDDIE: Wow, sounds good! Let’s see…


The giraffe story

Elliot (giraffe)
Ralph (giraffe)

A savanna

ELLIOT: My dearest friend, Ralph! What is your biggest dream?

RALPH: (thinking) I would say not to be eaten by a lion. Alright, tell me, what’s wrong?

ELLIOT: I’ve been thinking a lot….

RALPH: Yeah, you do that several times a day.

ELLIOT: We do nothing. We live our days the same. It’s so monotonous. Why don’t we do something fun? What are we gonna tell our children? I’m such a boring giraffe. Like … you know I don’t differ from anyone. I’m not special. Then why do I live?

RALPH: (quietly) Oh! This idiot and his conceptions! But probably it’s true now. (turns to Elliot) Alright, what do you want to do about it, then?

ELLIOT: I want to travel and see the aurora borealis!

RALPH: You silly giraffe! It’s freezing there! That’s a stupid idea. I can’t believe you just said that. My mum was right when she said I shouldn’t make friends with you.

ELLIOT: So you’re not coming?

RALPH: What? Of course I’m not. You’re out of your mind.

ELLIOT: Goodbye then, mate! It was a pleasure knowing you.

RALPH: You’re going?


RALPH: (talking to himself) Someone has to take care of this idiot giraffe. I can’t let him go alone. (turns to Elliot) Wait. I’m going with you.


Back to the present


Amelia’s room

AMELIA: (takes the papers out of Freddie’s hands)

FREDDIE: Hey, I’m not finished yet!

AMELIA: You can read it after it’s published. I talked to a company and I have a consultation with them on Monday, but the manager seemed to like my idea.

FREDDIE: Wow, that’s great! Congratulations. So when it’s going to be published? I’d really like to know the ending.

AMELIA: I don’t know yet. It takes a pretty long time.

FREDDIE: Alright, tell me then. Do they see the aurora borealis?

AMELIA: (laughing) Who knows?


The Wall

Zsófia Szabina Gávris

Have you ever wondered about a Wall? A Wall which separates humanity from living a peaceful and self-developing life?

Humanity has reached a point where other people’s lives and problems are more important than one’s own. We, humans, can no longer concentrate only on our own lives and our own business. Everybody gossips and spreads rumours about other people. Some even stalk on social media or in real life. Humans nowadays have a need to be part of others’ lives. People feel compelled to criticise and estimate others’ looks, acts and opinions. Envy, hatred, evil and malice have unfortunately replaced love, respect, support and loyalty.

The Wall I am talking about consists of the aforementioned characteristics and, sadly, many more besides. The way I see it, for some reason humans are not able to climb this wall or jump over it. To be more precise, I suppose most of the people don’t even try. Besides, for the masses it is too important to be involved in others’ lives.

It would mean a great step forward if humans focused on themselves. If people were more conscious of their own life, own business, and own problems, our world could be a much better one to live in. Self-improvement and self-development should be a priority in our society. Yet these are on the other side of The Wall.  I strongly believe that one day humans will treat each other with love, kindness and respect.

To summarise my thoughts, The Wall of society is yet to be jumped over, but with a different mentality our social culture could do this and more.

Transparent Minds, Transparent Dreams

Zeynep Cicimen

Sometimes it sounds impossible to see the other side; you just feel what happens there.You trust these feelings and the ideas come into your mind. This makes you feel like you are stuck in the middle of everything: it’s the only way to have a point of view and judge. Yes, our brains need to judge; we have to find a point of view, a mechanism  we can hide behind to come through with all the circumstances offered by “life.” We all build walls in our minds. I build a wall that separates me from my-real-self; my pure feelings, my emotions from my mind. You build a wall with the intention of running away from other people’s decisions, to have the right to say a couple of phrases about your own lifestyle, but you still can’t find your dreams in your mind, wherever you put them before, because “a wall” exists there. You have already forgotten how to find the “real you” in yourself while developing a solid system, “a wall,” to protect yourself; to prove your existence in the world, to show them you leave a trace behind you while passing through changes. Even if that wall were transparent, you wouldn’t have been capable of observing every detail, of hearing every single voice coming from your heart, from your desires. At this point, it’s not an ordinary wall anymore. It is time to say “the wall” right now.

The Wall”

Which is between you and your-other-self.

Non-transparent, transparent, soft, solid, judgy, isolating, limiting.

Which retains its own existence despite every situation. It has the strange potential to let you into the arms of loneliness while making you feel safe and protected.

You have already constructed “the wall” between yourself and your emotions.

Inner Wall”

You don’t have the freedom of choosing what to feel; you start to feel whatever you should. Now, there is quite a long distance between your mind and your dreams. As if that were not enough, you can’t see any signboards showing you how many kilometers are left to arrive to yourself, to reach your dreams; to learn where they hide at least. At that point, you have nothing to put into words and no right to confess. All the opinions, the opportunities, the points of view, the mechanisms which protected you (or instead, you pretended they did) and every single confession are blocked. The “Inner Wall” is exactly like “the other side of the Moon.” You can’t see “a part of yourself”; maybe your perceptions aren’t sufficient, they are not designed for defining that unusual thing which is standing there without impairing your integrity (actually it is but you can’t perceive it). Here is the other option: it is your choice whether you are able to see it or not. You reject the other side instinctively: this is your approach of coping with life, of surviving against the conditions, of staying in your own magic. Despite everything, you keep the probability of an “nonexistent wall” in your mind. You had placed it wherever you wanted, which means you are able to demolish it as well. You don’t have to abandon yourself to take a sneak peek at “the other side.” The thing which horrifies you right now is the meaning you attributed to “the wall.” A little whisper of the dilemma: You can’t decide if you want to make a connection with your-other-self or not; but it is obvious that you don’t want to leave this side completely, to break the invisible chain. Perhaps, that’s why “the wall” exists. “The reality you don’t want to get rid of.”

Childhood. Remember all those colourful swings between your first deep breath and the last one. ”The hide-and-seek,” no waiting for the count, catch your-other-self before it hides. Remember that your dreams are transparent, as well as your mind. They suddenly appear in every single minute of your life. The thing you are frightened of getting lost inside is the thing you are frightened of losing the most.

Maybe right now, you and your-other-self are sitting exactly in the same alignment, leaned back against “the wall,” both parts of your heart finding their matches, that voice of a click; they are completing each other softly, “both parts of you” waiting quietly for the end of the storm.

Beyond Walls

Selin Yelten

Look to your left and then your right. You are probably sitting in a room, surrounded by four walls, more or less. Secured, ordinary and banal. The walls are separating you from other rooms. This room might be in your house or in your workplace. You have your borders to let you focus on whatever you are doing. But why do we need this ? We are all hiding behind walls. We not only hide our actions from other people, but we also hide ourselves from others. 

From the beginning of life one of our main vital needs is shelter. The basic idea of shelter is to have protection from weather and other living creatures. So whether it is mud or brick, there are walls that serve as a protection mechanism. Over time, shelters started to get divided by walls for each individual. These separations are important for personal space. Once upon a time, it was for avoiding animals; nowadays, I believe that the main reason is to avoid people, including ourselves. We enter our rooms and do whatever we want. Room has a significant meaning in here. It symbolizes our own utopia or dystopia. It might be where our biggest nightmares happen or where we dream of the best and feel free.  Let’s think about it. You are at home: When your phone rings, what do you do? You go to your room. When you want to cry, what do you do? You go to your room. When you feel disturbed by other members in the house, what do you do? You go to your room. When you want to gossip about someone, what do you do? You, instinctively, go to your room, where you feel secluded. You feel like whatever happens inside those four walls will stay inside them. Gossip, sexual activities, emotions, secrets….

Each of us has many secrets. Even we might not know what we are hiding, because it could be deep down in our minds. Some of the secrets are highly secured, some of them are just trying to be kept away from those concerned. Walls are a great method to stash away unheard words that must stay unspoken. For example, there are so many walls in a government building. Why are their architectural structures  not simpler? They could have been simpler, but they must not be, because the data has to be protected and kept away from people. If those walls were not there, we could have access to the files and to people. They are hiding, they are refusing to face the people they have affected. They are avoiding seeing the damage they have done. Another example is what happens inside houses. Family secrets are buried in houses. Who would hear if you were living ten meters away from the next-door neighbour and you were shouting at, insulting or hitting an individual that you share your house with? Those walls are where most childhood traumas are trapped. Parents come home and have anger outbursts. Kids come home and pour out their school problems to their parents. But then the heartbreaking conversations and actions begin  behind four walls, and nobody’s soul hears from outside, the real world, where we act as if everything is alright, where we are the actual Hollywood stars.  Walls in houses have multifaceted functions. They create both a safe and independent reunion area and a war area where we reflect the darkest sides of our souls. So we can say walls are a concrete border between our minds, but when we start to integrate into each other’s lives, walls start to disappear and let us see into others’ darkness. “You are confined only by the walls you build yourself.” It is a quote that promotes my thoughts, and it pushes me to think further: that our walls are prisons that we create for ourselves and that there are some free-souled people out there who cannot stand staying confined inside of them. So, we call them thrillseekers instead of happy people, just because they refuse to obey our own boundaries; they realize that true happiness is outside, in nature, where there are still boundaries but luckily not made by humans.

The Walls Who Spoke

Roza Kaplan

When I was a little girl, I spent weekdays at my grandparents’ house, as my parents had to work. The house was on a slope leading to the top of the highest hill on the island. In the sleepless nights, I watched the city lights beyond the dark sea, leaning against the cold walls. The cold blue walls.

I remember the day they were painted, they were once pink. Pink like strawberry candy. 

I put my ears on the walls and tried to hear the neighbors talking, a vase falling, a door creaking, a phone ringing. I was drawn to the secrets kept by the cold blue walls. I wished to be able to see beyond the walls. The hypocrite walls. Separating people and keeping secrets. 

At that time I didn’t know that I would want to have my own walls in a few years. A room with walls. My walls, my way to hide from the rest of the world. To be free. 

My grandmother talked to herself. She always had something to do in the kitchen. And she always talked. To someone who wasn’t there. To the walls. She talked about her childhood, her memories, her friends, her happiness and her sorrows. The walls had souls. They had names that no one knew but I.

I was seven years old. There were seven parallel universes. There were seven different versions of me in each universe. In those seven parallel universes, each word had seven different meanings. 

There were forty-nine different meanings of “walls.”

I knew all of them. 

Then I grew up. 

There were five definitions of “wall” in the dictionary. “Wall” had five meanings. There was only one universe, the one in which the only version of me lived.

Then I grew up a bit more.

I remember geography classes from elementary school. Turkey is an earthquake zone. 

I remember my parents, grandparents, that man I met in public transport, the elderly lady at the bakery, the neighbor of my aunt … with the bitter expression of people who can’t forget … faces buried in the past, heartbeats of terror … while they were telling me of that day in 1999. And what it had taken from them. Who it had taken from them. 

There was a huge earthquake in a little city near İstanbul. 

Thousands of deaths. Beneath the walls.

They were killed by the walls that had been built to protect them. 

When I was seven years old and when there were seven parallel universes,

I thought that the walls were liars. 
Then I grew up.
At first, I thought that people were lying to themselves about the walls protecting them. 
Then I grew up a bit more. 
I wonder if there is a simple unique reality. 

Borderless Walls

Naz Arpacı

I haven’t heard the phrase ‘safe and sound’ in a long time; things are slowly getting worse as time goes on. As the problems boost, walls begin to rise up, not only between people but also between countries. Demanding power, people have changed our world to a brutal battlefield where some must be downtrodden and exploited. 

Living in different countries was my milestone; I was able to see Europe and the Middle East through distinct eyes and viewpoints. Realizing the culture conflict, the hatred, the misunderstandings, and much more with my entire being, I learned to ask myself the right questions: what was missing from this world, what caused all this conflict and all this hate? The answer to those reflections was ‘the wall’; walls were the real barrier between souls. People need to understand and acknowledge that our time in this world is limited; why not live without greed, without fear, without grudge? While speaking to someone, I always think twice before saying anything, to filter my thoughts. People who ‘fire from the hip’ cause the walls to rise even higher day after day; I am afraid that we won’t be able to see the sky, seeing only what lies before us.    

In the past, the border walls were built for military purposes and to maintain the territory against threats; they had a concrete meaning between two countries. However, in the present, the border walls are usually built to separate two opposing ideologies (in politics, culture, economy and military), attributing an abstract meaning. Although the purposes are changing gradually over time, border walls continue to be the consequence of international relations. Hearing the word ‘wall’ on the news or anywhere else makes me uncomfortable. Slowly this discomfort turns into pessimism; whereas the walls should be shattered and bridges should be erected, I see the opposite taking place. In Joseph Fort Newton’s words, “Men build too many walls and not enough bridges.”

Wall Climbing

Lilla Kassai

I have always loved climbing since I was little. On trees, on rocks, on buildings, on everything, so when I heard that there would be a wall-climbing opportunity in my town, I was thrilled to try it.

When I went to the first training, I was surprised: I expected more people to come, yet there were only nine, not counting count the trainer and myself. And they were mostly guys. There were only four girls: Leticia, Simone, Lucienne, and me, Estelle. They seemed pretty friendly and outgoing. Still, we didn’t talk that much, because they came with their boyfriends, so I ended up a lone wolf. I tried not paying attention to my single-being, but still … looking down while climbing the wall and seeing them hand in hand…. They looked so perfect together, and all I could do was climb and not concentrate on my lonely ass.

Out of nowhere, one of the boys, who had nobody with him, stepped on my hand.

“Ouch!” I yelled.

“If you had been climbing and not gazing at Lucienne and Adrian, I wouldn’t have been able to step on your hand,” groaned the guy, and then he continued to climb.

“And you should have watched out with your leg!” I murmured to myself, but the guy seemed to have radar hearing.

“If you aren’t fast enough, don’t be surprised if you get run over by others,“ he snapped and climbed to the top of the wall as fast as a spider. I didn’t even think he could see anything through his long greasy hair. I tried to climb faster to overtake him, but it seemed impossible.

I wanted to overtake the greasy-haired boy so badly that I wasn’t focusing on where I put my feet. I had almost reached the top when my foot slipped. I had almost fallen from a four-metre height when I felt a gentle but strong squeeze on my hand, the same hand that had been stepped on. When I restored my balance, I glanced up. I gasped: I looked into the eyes of the greasy dark-haired guy who had stepped on my hand. At this moment I was able to examine his face briefly:  he had fair skin and bluer eyes than the Caspian Sea. His glance was so penetrating that I felt him seeing into my soul. Even though I felt frustrated and embarrassed, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. When I realised I was gazing at him as if I were salivating on my Johnny Depp posters, I looked immediately away.

“You’re welcome, snail-girl,” he grinned. I knew it wasn’t ethical, but calling me a snail-girl hurt a bit, so I didn’t thank him for saving me from falling. We didn’t speak until the end of the training.

“I can’t remember hearing you saying thank you….” he murmured to me as I came out of the locker room. He scared me a bit, since I wasn’t expecting him to confront me. I looked in the direction where I thought the voice was coming from, and I saw Mr. Greasy standing at the door of the guys’ locker room, adjusting his spectacles on his nose, which I found somehow fascinating.

“You insulted me, Greasyhead.” I snapped.

“And saved you from a couple of broken bones … Snail-girl…” he giggled, and I quickly got annoyed. Unfortunately, I could only gasp, because nothing came to my mind that I could use to fight back.

“Greasyhead … I like that one … By the way, you should close your mouth, before a bug flies in,” he continued. Continued to troll with me.

“By the way, if you hadn’t run away that quickly, you would probably have heard about next Friday….” He insisted on having a conversation. Well, let’s give him a chance.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, but my tone sounded a bit threatening. Luckily, he didn’t seem to get scared.

“Introduction event within the club. Just a little get-together. Do you fancy coming?”

Waaaaiit a minute … Did he just ask me out? Did he?

“Uhm … yeah I guess…” I responded with a frozen brain.

“Good,” he said, and before I could even blink, he held my right hand, which he had stepped on, and kissed it.

I froze. Why did he do that? I could not even ask him, because the next moment, he turned his back and went away, dissolving in a crowd. 

The next time I saw him at the next training, I didn’t recognise him at first. His hair was tied back in a bun, so I could see his face completely. It was beautiful: pale skin, bright blue eyes, and thin lips surrounded by a little mustache and beard. He also wore a sleeveless t-shirt, so I was able to see his artistically toned muscles. I gasped.

“Hello, Snail-girl!” he greeted me with a huge grin.

“Who are you?” My brain froze while I gazed at the handsome guy. He was familiar, but still….

“My name is Marcial Delacour. I stepped on your hand last time. You might know me as Greasyhead.” He gave me a naughty smile, which made my internal organs melt.

“Eee … Estelle Gardieu….” I offered him my right hand for shaking, but he kissed it instead. Oh my god, this boy is just, wow….

Throughout the training, I tried to avoid him, but he was staring at me all along. Climbing was harder than ever, because I could feel his eyes gazing at me. I couldn’t concentrate properly. I slipped again, and there was no one to catch my hands. I fell from  the wall. I prepared myself for the pain, but instead, I fell on something soft. I rolled over and I went pale as hell. I fell on Marcial.

“Hey!.. Greasyhead … Are you okay?” I panicked.  What if he was injured?

Luckily, he was able to sit up, and threw a grin on me.

“I didn’t know you wanted to use me as a landing place…” he groaned “but fine, then.…”

“No, not at all.  But … thank you for being a landing place for me.” I laughed nervously, while seeing him stand up as if I hadn’t fallen on him a minute earlier. To my surprise he stood up before me, and offered me his hand to help me rise.

“Thank you…” I was shocked.

We didn’t talk much until the end of the training, when I came out from the locker room, where he was waiting for me.

“What are you doing here? Are you waiting for someone?” I asked him, blushing.

“I was waiting for the Snail-girl, so perhaps I can accompany you home,” he responded with a charming smile. I felt butterflies in my stomach. 

“Ohhh….” I froze when I looked into his eyes through his glasses. It is said that the eyes are a mirror to one’s soul. This moment I was able to throw a glimpse right into Marcial’s soul. I saw a generally happy and joyful guy, who seemed to be very hurt on the inside. Probably a heartbreak.

“Well … I have nothing against it…” I stuttered, but inside, I was flying with happiness.

We walked home together, but not for the last time. After every training, Marcial accompanied me home. Then he started to pick me up after finishing school. My story with him happened twelve years ago and now, on this day, I am proud to call myself Madame Estelle Delacour.  

The First Sunrise

Lili Forgács

“Are you ready to climb it?” asked Thomas, curious whether his friend had changed his mind about their plan.

“Yes, I am. I couldn’t be readier than I am now,” answered George in a low tone.

The two of them were standing in front of a huge, approximately five-meter-high, graffiti-decorated wall that surrounded Seattle, the settlement where they lived. The wall had been standing there ever since the boys could remember. Its existence was never questioned; it protected them from their enemies every time they were attacked. Although they hadn’t fought with anybody for more than twenty-five years, one could never be sure what the future might hold, so the wall remained.

Thomas and George had been best friends their whole lives long and had a lot in common. For instance, both of them had always been curious about what was outside the town. They asked a lot of people, but nobody knew the answer. Only merchants could leave Seattle, but they were too busy to talk about the unknown. Their parents had also tried to convince them that there was nothing interesting that was worth knowing about, but the boys couldn’t stop wondering.

One day they were playing ball games together in Thomas’s back yard.

“Hey, George,” Thomas started. “Have you ever seen a sunrise? It is said to be the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“Honestly? I’ve never,” George answered while catching the ball. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Thomas, don’t do this, please! I know you well enough to know when you have something on your mind. So tell me, what is it?”

“How about if I say that tomorrow we will watch the sunrise together?”

“Then I will response with a question: what if it is illegal to climb up the wall?”

“We will climb up the wall,” Thomas answered in such a way that George couldn’t say no.

The two friends met at five o’clock in a small and dark street that ended at the wall. They had one hour and thirteen minutes to climb up. They thought it would be easier than it was. The wall was unexpectedly slippery, and it was hard to find the perfect cracks that could help them hold on, but finally, with the help of ice axes, they reached the top just in time.

“It’s absolutely breathtaking,” George sighed.

“I told you.”

The boys just stood there for a few minutes and enjoyed the light of the first rays of the Sun.

“Do you think the police will catch us?” Thomas asked.

“Surely, but it’s worth it.”

They waited until the Sun appeared wholly, then left the place silently.