The Berlin Wall fell this day, November 9th, 1989.
It took just one night for its pieces to shatter.
The walls that surround hearts can take a lifetime to break.
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50-year-old Thomas Weiss stood before a crumbling wall, wielding a hammer he wasn't sure he wanted to use. His wife, Hannah, and twin sons had resided in the free zone for years--because she wanted to.
The wall had come down in 1989--ten years to this day. The shattered pieces lay on the ground, waiting to come together.
Thomas wondered if they would--but some walls sealed hearts.
And stood taller.
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Youngsters still came to hack at the bricks that hadn't yet given way, breaking out in raucous hollers as they did.
Thomas watched them, his memories more dislodged with each blow of the hammer. Each cheer he heard felt like an accusation---like Hannah's last words to him.
He wasn't sure he envied the wall for coming down.
Before he slammed the door of the family home--sharper than the barbed wire that accompanied the bricks.
A young man spotted him standing, still in a reverie. He stretched out his hand--a small piece of the wall lay in his palm.
Thomas hesitated. He wasn't sure if it was just unwanted history coming apart, or a piece of his own heart.
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His wife appeared amidst the dust and fallen wall splinters.
Older.
Strange.
The shadow of the wall that was, stood between them--too real.
Freedom felt foreign--the hardest reunions were the ones one didn't prepare for.
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He dropped his hammer, the crowd's joy flooding over him. He and Hannah didn't embrace--but stood together.
Breathing the air of freedom for the first time--
In decades.
Their unity had begun---in silence.
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As dawn broke, the wall had nearly crumbled completely. The crowd had vanished, save for a few stragglers.
The bricks had come apart in just one night in 1989. His peace with Hannah would take a lifetime of rebuilding.
The Berlin wall had finally fallen. The one in his heart--still solid brick.
And had to shatter--within.
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Original story by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental
For Mikeydred's November Challenge
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
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She Wears The Red Scarf
Today marks the anniversary of a milestone in women’s political power in America—the election of the first woman to Congress. We mirror that femininity in Singapore by celebrating the Samsui Woman, a female labourer commonly seen at construction sites in the 1950s and 60s. Opportunities for women have increased over the years—and her scarf, and spirit, live on. She wields the scarlet scarf of strength. 🧣🇸🇬🧣🇸🇬🧣🇸🇬🧣🇸🇬 The evening air was dense with the usual Singapore humidity--and tales once woven. Despite the tropical overwhelm, Singaporeans walked to the polls. Outside on a railing was a scarf--red, fluttering in the November wind. It hung a poignant scarlet against the grey twilight. No one saw the woman who donned it, or her dust-streaked blue blouse. A heavy blouse no wind could lift. Mdm Ong was a Samsui Woman who lived in Singapore of the 1950s--a construction worker who laid bricks when women weren't meant to construct. Along with others like her, she built a city that never knew--or wanted to know--her name. She had toiled when families prayed, hauling beams twice her weight. She out-dreamt her pay. She returned every Singapore election--not as a ghost, but as a witness. An elections officer noticed her form in the glass, in a blue samfoo, head bound in a telltale red scarf. She watched as the women of the time filed past to the polling booths, pens ready to mark their chosen candidate. She blinked, and the Samsui ghost left, leaving only the faint, but comforting scent of earth. The elections staff sealed the ballot boxes. The scarf fluttered to the ground. The elections officer picked it up, and wore the proud memory around her neck. 🧣🇸🇬🧣🇸🇬🧣🇸🇬🧣🇸🇬 All of us have inspiring female figures in our lives--do share yours in the comments!
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin2 months ago in Fiction
The steps to losing a child
Step One: Lose a child. Not what anyone wants to happen and nothing you can do to change it, but you can go through steps to becoming happy again. You can go through steps to loving again. You can go through steps to become a new you because after losing a child you will never be the same person you once were.
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Comments (4)
That's a very powerful comparison.
It always takes longer to build something than destroying it. Loved your story!
I was sixteen when I saw it come down, and I thought about the friends of mine whose parents came to Canada to escape from that conflict. Oh, and you can see a piece of the wall here in Montréal! 🧱
Well-wrought!