A Night at the Wall – Short Story

She was in the same place when I was walking to my morning class and when I was walking back home from my night class. It was a concrete wall with a brick façade, and she was standing in front of the place where the brick inexplicably stopped for the wall’s entire vertical length. One set of bricks that should have covered up the concrete wall there was missing.

No one ever looked there. No one ever had a reason to look there. The place was off in the grass on the back side of the Pearson building and the path was thirty feet from the wall.

The world’s light had gone out, so she was using the lamp’s light to see. I was planning on passing by her like I never saw her, but I stopped at the lamp because it hit me that it made no sense for the lamp to be there. It was illuminating the grass patch where no one went, the back of the building where she was standing. I inspected the lamp. I took a couple circles around it and did a knuckle-tap on its metal body. It was definitely there. It wasn’t going anywhere. I had to deal with it.

She wasn’t going to turn around so I went up next to her and looked where she was looking. “Is there some kind of bug or something?” I asked.

“No, but there were lots of bugs earlier,” she said.

“Any good ones?”

“All of them,” she said.

“What are you looking at now?”

“The beauty,” she said.

I looked right at her eyes and followed her gaze perfectly. It was just a wall in front of her. The ugly white concrete sticking out in the place the bricks skipped over.

“I like walls,” she said.

I looked closer.

“Oh, wow,” I said. “Wow.”

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