The wall sits, crumbled, almost forgotten. The chipmunks have a hole behind some broken mortar. Crows sometimes tuck their peanuts here. The bull is gone.
I’d hit a wall. It was bad enough to lightly tap into it, but it was worse when you’d ram into it headfirst, blood pouring out of the cuts on your lip and the dizzying sensation that would elicit from your head.
there was no writing on the wall. a thin layer of dust, perhaps, coating whitewashed bricks. a few scratches, even a couple small strokes of paint, as if someone had tried to write on the wall and never got to finish. their words forever a mystery as person after person searched for the writing on the wall.
The wall sits, crumbled, almost forgotten. The chipmunks have a hole behind some broken mortar. Crows sometimes tuck their peanuts here. The bull is gone.
I’d hit a wall. It was bad enough to lightly tap into it, but it was worse when you’d ram into it headfirst, blood pouring out of the cuts on your lip and the dizzying sensation that would elicit from your head.
A wall in the middle of a maze you’re lost in.
He looked forward. There was a layer of mist? mystical beings? something untangible?
He believed he could not go further.
He raised his hand, reached out, but then retracted promptly in hesitation.
But there was no wall. The barrier has always been his mind.
there was no writing on the wall. a thin layer of dust, perhaps, coating whitewashed bricks. a few scratches, even a couple small strokes of paint, as if someone had tried to write on the wall and never got to finish. their words forever a mystery as person after person searched for the writing on the wall.