ayeshazahyd

brick wall

In Uncategorized on August 7, 2010 at 5:24 am

There is nothing between us but a brick wall. We pick up the broken pieces and lay them aside: don’t worry about them now, dear, they will only hurt you. There are no holes in the wall and I cannot see you – you cannot see me. What once never existed is taking the place of existence itself. If I were to call it a truce and agree to the darkness’ cries, I would cease to exist. Forbidden bricks line the wall in front of me and I know you see their other side. I wonder what it looks like, but I am afraid to find out how similar the wall’s thoughts are to mine.

Perhaps we should try tearing it down, you say, as we each hold a stone in our hand (where did it come from, we wonder, but there are no answers, only questions). The stone is gray, like the sky, like the world, like the lack of gleam in our eyes and we un-look each other through the wall.

There is silence. Except the rhythmic thudding of stone against brick. Hours later, we are sweating. But there is not a dent in the wall.

If there is a will, there is a way – I hear the whisper in my ear and look around. No one looks back at me. The wall continues to my right, the wall continues to my left. I glance up and see it never ends. It seems to touch the sky, kissing it slightly, sharing a secret I am not meant to know.

You are on the other end, I remind myself. Why do I have to remind myself?

The stone falls from my hand and I give up. Sitting with my back against the brick wall, I stop.

Stopping is the best thing to do when fighting against something that will never be taken down. I stand up and walk the other way.

Behind me, I still hear muffled stone against brick.

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