An empty room has the most secrets.

Imagine the stories those walls could whisper.

Tales of

lovers and fighters

with their heated arguments and tender kisses.

Struggles for survival

trying to make rent or just make it out alive.

Someone’s last moments

or

their very first

among the sterile white hospital rooms.

Those late college nights filled with tears

and the scent of coffee brewing

or

parties on weekends

full of spirits and laughter.

Times of joy and stress during holidays

while the listening walls are decorated with care.

What about the offices of poets and authors?

Witnessing greatness as Fitzgerald and Poe

finish their respective masterpieces.

If only those walls could talk.

If only we would listen.