A Wall or What…?

While reporting on Jim Gavido’s doll yesterday it became clear to The Post that much was, and still is, uncertain about the past of our little town. And lo and behold, upon a little research inside our old dusty archives we found these pieces of ancient paper; a drawing of a rectangle with the description of a wall; and characters of an unknown origin mixed up with roman letters. Imagine our bewilderment? What on our meek earth was this?

A wall? The words: be ma yong? What? The quality of the documents was so poor we hardly had the heart to touch them, but we had to. They were so strange and compellingly vague. And now, while writing this, we are still up, after a long night of arguing. All red eyes and greasy hair around this table. Was there a city wall? Had somebody planned a city wall? And the other one ─ a love letter? Could it be an immigrant’s first heroic, albeit feeble attempt at romance in a new language? Be my young? My bride? My everything?

Hard to tell, very hard. But a wall? here? Forget it, they’ll say.

And now we’re oh so very tired and argued out, and that is oh so in total breach of our editorial policy.