The Walls Saw It All

‘Lo Readers,

Imagine for a minute with me that you are a fly on a wall. If you were, you would see people at their absolute rawest. You would see humanity as it really is, and not what we portray ourselves to be. Take a dive with me into this world of being unseen.

A taller man wildly animates a story, his man bun flying side to side as he acts it out, the rest of the people gathered at the kitchen table laugh, some shaking or rocking back and forth. Photo albums are open at the table, and the stories continue to flow as the night goes on. Their voices break over a couple of names, but they laugh in the end, remembering what they all used to be and who made them who they are now.

The scene changes to a small red car parked outside a coffee shop. Two girls seem to have gravitated towards the middle of the car, the younger one shaking with quiet sobs and the older one murmuring quietly as she hugs her. It’s an odd mixture of love and heartbreak.

The scene changes to two little boys screaming and streaking through the house like hyper bolts of lightning, clothes forgotten and their hair still wet from the bath. Their words are indecipherable, but they are filled with an almost musical sound of laughter. You laugh along even though you don’t get the joke.

The scene changes to quiet conversations in the kitchen. An older looking man sits at the head, talking quietly while the others interject every now and then. Though they don’t always agree, you sense a level of respect towards the older man.

The scene changes to that kitchen table again, games being played with laughter and teasing involved. Every once in a while an irritated shout fills the room while the other players laugh and the irritated person chuckles in the end. 

The scene changes to an old fish restaurant where an entire table communicates with wild gestures but no words because the quiet game is in session. 

The scene changes to two young people playing Coldplay on their cello and piano, the adults poking their heads in every now and then and grandparents smiling quietly in the kitchen as music fills the house from corner to corner. 

The scene changes to irritated sighs and stomping away, computers left open on mine craft tabs by two young boys. 

The scene changes to four people huddled on the couch under a blanket watching a black and white TV show. One of them screams and the others jump wildly. 

The scene changes to a drive around the lake, stories flying around the car. The man driving is telling these stories, circling around old neighborhoods and remembering the people who shaped him. He’s not just telling these stories for fun, but he’s teaching lessons, hoping that some of it will sink into the young people in the car. 

The scene changes to off key singing and a piano and cello banging out “Don’t Stop Believin'”. It’s a little off tune and extremely off key but it is carefree and happy for that moment. 

The scene changes to discussions over huge mugs of coffee, filled to the brim with steaming liquid caffeine.

The scene changes once more as you manage to rip your eyes away from this raw and open state of life as you watch them around the kitchen table again, some talking loud and some talking softer, others just listening. And you smile to yourself then, because you know something now.

This is what real life is like.




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