Undeniably Human
My wall’s newfound appendages reached like plaster trees out toward the world. Where had these arms that my wall had suddenly grown come from? Could it be that the wall itself was grasping for something? Perhaps it had grown lonely. Or maybe a person living inside it had realized there was a world outside his claustrophobic wonderland.
I walked carefully around them, feeling up and down the arms awkwardly.
They felt like a part of the wall. Where normally fingerprints would spin in their spiral dance, textured plaster stuck out here and there like water drops. There was a complete and utter lack of wrinkles and identifying features, instead opting for the same feel as the fingers. The arms themselves were far to sturdy: the tree trunk arms of giants, unbendable and as stiff as the walls themselves.
And yet, they were undeniably human. Undeniably one of us. The positioning of them was an odd formation of desperation and longing. An uncomfortable combination of emotions surely unachievable by any piece of architecture, or whatever else they may be. The way their form showed feeling, the way the fingers curved slightly on the ends as if they one day might finish their movement and grasp whatever it was they would be grasping, the way they longed for the thing they reached for, this was something that was certainly a human action. No other mammal or otherwise can show their desire like we can.
I stepped back from the things briefly to admire them. They were the combination of human and other. Two worlds colliding in a harsh discord that had no place in our whole reality, let alone in my living room. Something from somewhere where the haunting beauty in the combination of the natural and unnatural, the presence of the supernatural that is the arms that are reaching from your walls can be appreciated. But surely they did not belong here. And surely they would not stay.
I walked carefully around them, feeling up and down the arms awkwardly.
They felt like a part of the wall. Where normally fingerprints would spin in their spiral dance, textured plaster stuck out here and there like water drops. There was a complete and utter lack of wrinkles and identifying features, instead opting for the same feel as the fingers. The arms themselves were far to sturdy: the tree trunk arms of giants, unbendable and as stiff as the walls themselves.
And yet, they were undeniably human. Undeniably one of us. The positioning of them was an odd formation of desperation and longing. An uncomfortable combination of emotions surely unachievable by any piece of architecture, or whatever else they may be. The way their form showed feeling, the way the fingers curved slightly on the ends as if they one day might finish their movement and grasp whatever it was they would be grasping, the way they longed for the thing they reached for, this was something that was certainly a human action. No other mammal or otherwise can show their desire like we can.
I stepped back from the things briefly to admire them. They were the combination of human and other. Two worlds colliding in a harsh discord that had no place in our whole reality, let alone in my living room. Something from somewhere where the haunting beauty in the combination of the natural and unnatural, the presence of the supernatural that is the arms that are reaching from your walls can be appreciated. But surely they did not belong here. And surely they would not stay.
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