Observer

If walls could talk, what do you think they might say? What sort of stories might they tell and what sort of personality would they possess? But most importantly, how would people react? Here is the story of one such wall, it has been waiting a long time to tell it's story.

I am a wall, just a simple wall. Or at least, that's what I used to be. I was made of brick and mortar, but one day, something strange happened. I started to hear voices, and then I found out I could talk back. I possessed a remarkable ability – I could talk. I lived in a small cottage in the countryside, surrounded by fields and trees. The last place anyone would expect something out of the ordinary to happen.

I have seen many things over the years. I have witnessed the laughter and tears of countless generations of families who lived in the cottage. I have heard the whispers of lovers, the cries of newborns, and the sighs of the elderly. The passing of time affecting the landscape of the countryside.

Despite my ability to talk, I was often ignored. The residents of the cottage went about their daily business, unaware of the silent witness in their midst. This was fine with me, as I had grown accustomed to being a silent observer. Who would think a silent wall wasn't normal after all?

One day, a new family moved into the cottage. They were a young couple with a baby, and they brought a new energy to the place. I was excited to have new people to talk to, but as I would soon discover, they were no different from the previous occupants. People often choose to ignore what they can't explain, as they mature they lose their sense of wonder.

I felt a sense of loneliness and sadness settle upon me. I was tired of being ignored and longed for someone to converse with. I began to speak out loud, hoping that someone would hear me.

To the my surprise, the baby heard my voice and started to coo in delight. The parents were shocked and frightened, but the baby seemed to enjoy the my company. I was overjoyed to have finally found someone who would listen.

Over time, I and the baby became inseparable companions. I told the baby stories, sang songs, and shared my wisdom. The baby's laughter filled the cottage, and Il felt fulfilled for the first time in my life. Every day I looked forward to when the baby would wake and crawl over to converse.

Eventually, the baby grew up and moved away. The parents of the baby never really understood the me to begin with and went back to being oblivious. I was once again alone, but was grateful for the memories shared with the baby. I knew that I would always be there, a silent witness to the joys and sorrows of the cottage. And, if someone ever needed a friend, I would be there, ready to talk.

Years went by, and many people came and went, but I was always there, listening to their stories and watching their lives unfold. I heard about love, loss, and everything in between. I saw families grow, and I felt their pain when they fell apart.

One day, a group of workers came and started to demolish the building I was part of. I was scared, I had never been outside of this place and I didn't know what was going to happen to me. But then, a voice spoke up, "Stop! This wall has a story to tell."

The workers stopped and listened as I told them about all the lives I had seen and all the memories I had stored. I told them about the child who was my first friend and how she had grown up and moved away.

After I finished speaking, the workers put their tools down and just looked at me in awe. They said they had never heard of anything like this before and that I was a special wall.

Eventually, I was relocated to a museum where people could come and listen to my story. I was no longer just a wall, but a piece of history that could share its tales.

Now, I stand tall, proud of all that I have seen and heard. I may be just a wall, but I am so much more than that. I am a witness to life, a storyteller, and a reminder that even the smallest things can have a big impact.