Fantasy
Witnessing a Strange Woman
If walls could talk, many humans would fall from grace. Not that they are very graceful to begin with. I have seen many things after all. Many different people have called this house home. But they never stayed, especially not long. Scared by how tall we stand. Saying we made this place feel empty. How eerie the house felt. We saw indescribable things that cannot be put into words. Far from anything normal that anyone should ever see. And things humans should never do.
By K.J.George4 years ago in Fiction
Hallowed Walls
If walls could talk, they would probably be pretty miserable at times, just having to sit there being silent even though they might have something to say. It could be torture at times to have to sit there silent, no matter the circumstances unfolding right by you. Knowing that you can talk, but you mustn't just because walls are not expected to talk. It would be enough to really mess you up. It would be enough to drive you crazy. It would be enough to make a wall do things. How do I know this? Because I am a wall.
By Ginger del Toro4 years ago in Fiction
A Forgotten Tale
Verse I If walls could talk… “You again. What do you want?" "Me again." Then silence. It takes two to tango, and the same goes for a conversation. Well, mostly. Kind of depends on whether or not a talking wall constitutes one of those two conditions. One living and breathing individual initiated a line of questioning once again followed by the wall issuing its distorted response accordingly.
By Leon Warczak 4 years ago in Fiction
A Wall in a House. Runner-Up in If Walls Could Talk.
If walls could talk, this one would ask you for a goddamn cigarette right about now. I’m joking, of course. Even if you could supply me with one, I’ve got no arms to light it with, no mouth to suck in the smoke with, and no lungs to be blackened by it, because in case I wasn’t clear- I’m a goddamn wall!
By Noah Husband4 years ago in Fiction
The reunion
"If walls could talk, what in the world would they say?" Andrea sighed, gazing at the scorching flames growing in the wood-burning stove, and could not help but wonder what the walls would say after witnessing that unusual reunion. She wasn't particularly fond of get-togethers, and the scent of gift wrapping paper almost always made her feel nauseous and frail. Anastasia, looking like a snowball, lay in the cat tree curled up into a crescent with its head tucked in toward its chest and its lavish and furry tail swooping around its little body, looking cozy as can be. "Maybe they'd laugh at our giant act!" she exclaimed cynically but then slowly dozed off on the mahogany desk until she fell into a deep, dark sleep. After what felt like a lifetime, Andrea finally wakes up and starts scanning the room. She can't quite pinpoint what feels different about it this time, but something is off. The room looks darker and shadowy, and the scent of wrapping paper is more nuanced than usual. She puts her glasses back on and notices Anastasia is gone.
By Jetona Andoni4 years ago in Fiction
Of God and Humans, 2
God woke up, sat on the edge of his bed for a second, pushed his feet into soft fluffy sleepers and dragged them into the adjacent room, wrapping himself into a plush bathrobe on the way. He so wished he could just sleep a little more, but this was a part of his daily routine, and he knew what skipping it could mean for his charges: A disaster. As it happened many times before.
By Lana V Lynx4 years ago in Fiction
