What I found on my return to the mansion is half what I already knew and half unexpected: there is no country in the wardrobe, nor has there ever been, but I have discovered something peculiar about the old building’s dimensio


camped by the lamppost tonight or this morning, with my dim torch and my dwindling supply of batteries,
and as I tried to sleep
heard a sound in that echoing darkness, from a distance that I could not determine, like the note of a high, clear horn; I s h o u l d n o t b e h e r e, I think, but
cannot help imagining that Lucy would have wanted me to go on, and Edmund would have wanted me to take care, and Peter would have told me to be brave


no way back; the way is closed; the
re was never
a way there was never
      any road
  except


                f                              f
              u                            u
            r                          r
          t                        t
        h                      h
      e        a          e
    r       n         r
         d
  u           i
p        n