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"The Witness Within: The Wall's Unseen Observation"

A wall's tale.

By AM Ghandour Published 3 years ago 3 min read
"What would they say?"

If walls could talk, they would have seen and heard it all. They would have listened to the laughter and tears of generations, the whispers and secrets of the night, and the sounds of footsteps marching towards the unknown. They would have felt the warm embrace of summer and the bitter chill of winter, the tremors of earthquakes and the rustle of leaves.

I am one of those walls. I have been standing here for centuries, a silent witness to the lives of those who have come and gone. I have seen kings and peasants, lovers and enemies, wars and peace, joy and sorrow. I have been painted, carved, and adorned with frescoes, tapestries, and sculptures. I have been used as a canvas for artists, a bulletin board for political messages, and a refuge for the homeless.

But I have also been a burden, a source of conflict, and a cause of destruction. I have separated families and friends, blocked roads and waterways, and created borders and barriers. I have been vandalized, bombed, and burned. I have been a symbol of oppression, a reminder of division, and a sign of decay.

And yet, I am still here, standing tall and proud, a monument to the resilience of the human spirit. For no matter what happens to me, I will always be a part of this world, a piece of its history, and a link to its future.

One day, a young girl appeared at my foot. She was small and skinny, with tattered clothes and matted hair. She looked up at me with big, curious eyes and said, "Hello, wall. Can you talk?"

I was taken aback by her words. No one had ever spoken to me like that before. But I felt a strange connection to her, as if she was reaching out to me with a voice that I could understand.

"Yes, I can talk," I said. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," she said. "I want to know everything about you and the world you've seen."

And so, I told her. I told her about the battles and the festivals, the songs and the stories, the triumphs and the tragedies. I told her about the beauty and the cruelty of humanity, and the endless possibilities of life. I told her about the joys and the fears, the hopes and the dreams, the past and the future.

She listened intently, asking questions and making comments. She was full of wonder and curiosity, a spark of life in a world that had lost its way. And as I spoke to her, I felt a sense of purpose that I had never felt before.

"Thank you, wall," she said, when I was done. "You have given me a glimpse of the world that I never knew existed. You have shown me the beauty and the power of the human spirit, and the courage and the kindness that can overcome any obstacle."

"You're welcome, child," I said. "I hope you will use what you have learned to make this world a better place."

She smiled and nodded, and then she turned around and walked away. I watched her go, until she was a tiny speck in the distance. And then she was gone, leaving me alone once again.

But I was not the same wall that I was before. I had been touched by her presence, and changed by her words. I had been given a glimpse of the future, and a hope for the world.

If walls could talk, they would have seen and heard it all.

Fable

About the Creator

AM Ghandour

My Portfolio

BA in Procrastination, with a minor in Bullshittin'.

-Actor (still broke)

-Podcaster (Coming soon?)

-Voice Overs (Terrible)

- Writer ( Barely)

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