Not for the first time today, William can’t believe what he’s seeing.
He’s inside still, but he’s outside too. How can this be? It’s an entire room made of glass; a vast, echoing place. There’s nowhere to hide here, so he can’t risk going any further, but he so wishes he could. There are things in this place he’s only ever read about in books... rectangles of yellow grass and sheep. Sheep! So this is where we get our wool from... maybe there are cows providing milk too? He’d heard a rumour that the precious tallow they use in the factory when they’re cutting screw threads came from real sheep, but he never honestly believed it, not until now. He backs out of the glass room, but he makes a mental note to come back here later. If he’s going to be stuck here for a few days, then this is wher
