I sit in a housing lobby, emptied to summer's freedom, barren walls, forgotten furniture, silent hallways. I imagine the people who have walked these halls, sat in these seats, the conversations had; I imagine the people who will come, who will sit, who will talk. I think of the age-old saying, 'if these walls could talk'.
If I look to my right, I see a wall, itself empty, but strong; simple, yet consistent; uninspiring, however it knows its purpose and serves it mundane function without hesitation. When I look to my left, I see an ocean, itself full and strong; complex but staggering with beauty; without security but full of excitement and the unknown; its possibilities speak to fear, but its movements offer a chance into greatness.
Two realities. If these walls could talk...
''look to the left, look to the ocean''.
