WALL SERIES #1

We had a great exercise in class to narrate one wall in a 5 min. free-write everyday for a week. Working on this really stretched my creativity and helped me understand what storytelling really means.

I had to write about WALLS. I knew above anything else, my solutions could

NOT BE BORING.

The wall giggled for three days straight after she was born; the tip of the painter’s pencil and the calculated strokes of his brush tickled every morning he did his work. Her mural would delight the children coming to spend their hours in her room, and she couldn’t wait to treasure every touch of their little fingers, every squeal of their happy voices.

For thirty years she comforted the ones who cried with fear of abandonment, sending her warmth through their palms as they huddled against her to cower from the group. She scolded the ones who smeared their boogers on her flowers (but they never listened), laughed with the ones who played scavenger hunts with her pictures, and never got upset when the children decorated her with scribbles—satisfied that the added colors enhanced her beauty.

One evening, when not even the fluorescent lights could adequately brighten the room due to the storm outside, movers emptied the room. A man suffocated the wall, rolling endless layers of grey, mucky paint over her. The children never returned. For months no one returned, and still standing, the wall died.


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