Every day, he would walk out his front door with a pick and a shovel, and head to the the mountain. And he would climb to the top, and continue to break it down. Stone by stone, pebble by pebble, every day he made the mountain that little bit shorter, that little bit less hard to climb.
Eventually, it became nothing but a hill, that a cart, or horse, or person could easily walk. This meant that the village was now a mile from medical help, not fifty.
Round about 50 years after his wife's trip took too long round.
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