… one with high walls to protect him from bandits, clean streets to walk down, frequent patrols from guards to dissuade crime, and where honest work keeps everyone fed and sheltered.
His search takes him much farther than he anticipated – his supplies are gone, his clothes are rags, and he finds himself crawling across the ground in the direction he believes the city to be in.
Through his delirium, he hears footsteps coming towards him and two gate guards haul him onto his feet and lead him to the city gate – he has found it!
Without a word the guards sling him through the gate and slam it shut behind him. He looks upon a scene of constant activity: men are lifting bricks from one place to another; others are crafting ropes; some are erecting wooden scaffolding.
“New are you?” asks a man in similar rags to his own.
“Don’t worry, we were all new once! Here’s how this works: you put in a day’s work in this part of the city and you’ll be given a place to sleep. Three times a day you’ll be fed some bread, stale but not moldy, and a flagon of water. There is the bread line and over there is the line to get your water.”
Thanking his new-found friend our guy sets out to work to earn his place in the city. After a few days his friend says to him:
“See that door?” pointing to a large door leading deeper into the city
“Rumor is that it leads to another area where the work is easier and the food is better.”
“Really?” asks our man.
“Yup, they say you can line up for beef stew with a piece of bread to go with it, and instead of water they have piles of varied fruit used to make fruit juice for us to drink!”
“That sounds far better than this part of the city!”
“I’m heading there tomorrow. I came into the city a week ahead of you so I’ve put more work in, but if you keep working you will go through that door too.”
Bidding farewell to his friend he returns to work, missing the friendship but knowing that a week later he will see him again.
Sure enough, a week later, he is ushered through the door leading to the next district. The streets are cleaner, the air is sweeter, and he can see immediately that the work area is far less demanding. He spots his friend and heads over to talk to him:
“Well… are the rumors true?”
“Yes friend! The work is less demanding and look over there – a line for collecting beef stew, and over there is the fruit juice line!”
“I can’t wait.”
“Now listen, see that door… ” he asks while pointing to an elaborately carved door set into another internal city wall.
“… rumor has it that this is the door which leads to the center of the city. A place where the work is even easier. A place where the food you queue for is a steak dinner with all the trimmings! Another line exists to collect sweet desserts, and get this – to wash it all down you can line up for fruit punch. Alcoholic fruit punch!”
“Too good to be true!”
Both men diligently get to work, enjoying the better food and drink available to them.
Soon our guy wishes his friend good luck as he is allocated to the next sector and ushered through the elaborate carved door. A week later he himself is allowed to go though.
Every worker is well dressed and the work seems to be dabbing ink stamps onto pieces of paper. His friend notices him and strides over, clearly better fed and with a bounce in his step.
“What did I tell you! Isn’t this great?”
“Yes it is, but what do we do here?”
“We decide what the workers in the other sectors do. Just dab an ink stamp onto the paper to set a work task and that’s it”
“No manual labor?”
“None at all!”
“And the food? Is it true?”
His friend’s smile broadens: “It’s all true. Over there is the line for steak meals, with all the trimmings, and over there is the dessert line.”
“What about the fruit punch?”
“Oh,” says his friend, looking away “I’m afraid there is no punch line.”
