The Walls have Ears

I didn't eavesdrop. I collaborated with the walls. They were far more cooperative than the adults. Doors tried their best to shut me out, but walls… walls were generous. They carried whispers, softened secrets, and delivered half-finished sentences straight to where I stood. All I had to do was listen.

One eye through the gap, one hand on the edge, and suddenly I knew things I absolutely wasn't supposed to know. Important things, apparently. The kind that made voices drop and doors close a little faster.

But the walls never rushed. They took their time, letting curiosity do the rest.

Sometimes I only caught fragments. Sometimes I misunderstood completely. But that didn't matter. In my version of the story, everything became more dramatic, more interesting, far better than whatever was actually happening inside. Looking back, I don't think the walls were hiding anything.

They were just waiting for someone curious enough to hear them properly.