One morning he set off on his walk, but when he reached the point where he usually turns back and heads for home, he kept on going. For hours and hours, on he went, and all the while behind him the city was diminishing. Days later, when he remembered to glance back, the skyline had disappeared completely. Each day the road stretched ahead to an unknown horizon, and each day he came upon quiet places to drink and eat. People in these places were thoughtful and generous, taking nothing, talking little, asking no questions. Refreshed, he’d smile and gather himself then continue on his way. The road was often lined with huge ancient trees, so that in sunshine he could walk shaded, and in rain, sheltered. Eventually he was unable to recall not only his reasons for leaving the city but also his reasons for ever having gone there in the first place.