However, the architect changed his plans and had to place the cornerstone on the farthest corner, away from the building. Not that he wanted to, he said; without it, the whole building would fall down before they completed the first floor. Some people were disappointed! Why would they allow for some petty architect to transform the stone they rejected into a beautiful work of art, only to be tucked in a corner full of bugs and vermin and not where they believed it deserved!? He could have used other rocks, but not the most beautiful of them all!
In a moment, the people wanted to whisk him away from the project he worked so hard for so long. he never quite understood the people's outrage: the stone was beautiful, yes, but what purpose would it serve gallivanting the people's pride in a pedestal when it was needed in the most important corner, sustaining the load-bearing columns, and keeping the building structurally sound? In fact, they only appreciated the stone because the organizers paid him top dollar for him to design it! If he took away the stone, would people remember it in the first place?
By the end of the day, the outrage died as the architect was booted from his job and the son of some worker replaced him immediately. He left, she shed a tear or two, and he took away the cornerstone meant for the building. No problem —if nobody ever wanted it, then some other building would need it.
In a week, workers started building the first floor, without a cornerstone. It barely lasted a full hour when the floor caved in.