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It is curious to notice that the ones who were most attached to the materiality of life are the ones who left less traces. Of all the stools, stages, games and merchandises the visitor of Everyville cannot find anything. The big clock is still there, working, and the hours strike with sarcasm, now that nobody is there and its sound echoes off the wall of the wide road.
From the wide road, a series of tiny tunnels lead to big caverns: meticulously excavated in the rock, they once used to be homes: shelves, steps, dressers are perfectly preserved and lit up by the little hole in the middle of the ceiling. Every cavern takes the shape of world, the world as imagined by the rude owner, so that it is possible to encounter cubes, toroids, cylinders, ellipsoids, tetrahedrons, etc.
The meaning of architecture is revealed in this Everyville as in the one of before. The visitor chooses a pentagonal prisms. Life in Everyville can start again.