Time passed, and years slowly slipped away, but the man did not move. He stood, staring at the wall, as if wondering how to defeat it. Nobody saw this man, for he stood in the shadows, cloaked under the darkness. He was clothed in an unrecognizable, tattered cloth that swayed with the wind, and flowed with the air. He did not blink. He did not sigh. He did not cough. He only breathed, staring at the thin spider web cracks and miniscule imperfections that flowed along the expanse of brick and metal. Cars flashed by, people briskly walked along the street, and rubbish flew lazily past, but the man did not move. Nobody had ever payed the slightest attention to the man staring at the wall. Not a person or an animal had given him the slightest recognition. And years passed. Through the years, the man gained intelligence. He grasped the curious concept of the human language. He began to know of the worldly affairs, the wars, the elections, and the never ending need for power. And years passed. Things slowly changed. The people grew scarcer, and now as they walked past they looked terrified. But they did not pay the slightest recognition to this man. There were fewer sounds. The wind died down. Years passed. The wall grew weathered, and it grew more beaten down with time. No people passed. Silence, except the howling of the wind and the pitter patter of rain falling on the sidewalk, grew more and more. The man continued staring at the wall, and did not move. Years passed. Still, silence was the only dimension in the world. The wall grew more and more weathered the more the years passed. Eventually, it crumbled under the rain and the wind. But the man continued staring, instead at the wall that had replaced the crumbled wall. Years passed, and the man continued staring. Silence.
The Man and the Wall
December 14, 2009