If A Wall Could Talk

Bernard Fowler

If A Wall Could Talk

I am composed of lath, beaverboard, cement, wood, sheet rock, and all of the other famous concoctions that have been devised by the architect, the carpenter, and all of the other secret spells of modern industry. I was created in the happy and jazzy year of 1925. The first people I was to be introduced, and a committed witness too were always pairs of rugged men in hard hats. However, though there were also still men who would visit me who gave off the stench of a private high class university education, they would go along the interior checking out the other walls with a paper that had a bunch of baby blue scribbles on it.

Eventually there was another posh looking gentleman who would come every day to see me, but then two people would always come in after him, with curiosity that would put a pussy cat to shame.

One of them would be another man, short hair, accompanied with an upright back, however he the man would now be followed be a different type of looking creature. This new specimen would always be a nicer looking human with longer lovelier hair. They would also always have two bumps that pultruded out of their chests, eventually I would find that these fine creatures were called women by the humans.

But then the strangest of things occurred, one particular couple would return time and time again. One could say they took a keen interest in me and my fellow compatriots on the platform. We were a smash hit; we were a cat, and we were out of the bag. They loved me so much that they decide to live with us and join our little humble building.

In good time it became quite clear that the young woman had a heart as big as the Chrysler building and the man had a personality fit for the ancient Tartars. These two people had the strangest tradition where they gather in the main room where their sofa was and talk very loudly to each other, and this dissertation would end in one of two ways, the man would storm out with his coat on and not come back for several hours, and this would cause the young woman to talk to an older feminine sounding person through a metal box in another room, the other walls told me this little box enabled the humans to communicate with other humans across time and space .

The other sometimes they would do after talking loudly to each other and through the pillows off of the sofa at us was run upstairs and proceed to jump around on their bed in their resting chambers, and also love to make strange animal noises.

As the days went by me and the other walls started to notice that the young woman was gaining wait, and also too our surprise the young man did not grow angry with her like he had before when she appeared to be adding some kilograms. Both seemed to be ecstatic at the fact that she kept getting fatter and fatter, but it didn’t even appear like she had a natural fatness, she looked almost cartoonish with a big ole bulge in her mid-section.

And then for some reason once the woman was fatter than she had ever been older version of both the man and the woman would stop by the house and exclaim how happy they were that she was getting fat. The other walls and I were most assuredly perplexed at this dichotomy.

One day as the young woman was strutting along in all of her fatness the lower half of her body started to excrete water onto the floor and create a horrid disgusting mess, but for some reason instead of reprimanding her the other humans got all excited and flustered. I was completely puzzled by this obvious display of lunacy, and me and the other walls came to the conclusion that humans are just naturally mentally ill.

The humans ended up all getting into two cars and driving the panicked fat young lady off somewhere. Almost a day and a half later the people finally returned to us but were not as happy as they had been when they had left the other day. This left me and the other walls confuse because the young woman was no longer fat, and so we didn’t understand as to why the humans were being so sad and gloomy, but I guess that why I’m just a wall.