Yesterday

Yesterday my living room wall began to talk to me and, naturally enough, a reply was obligatory. trying to make conversation, I remarked on the warm weather we enjoyed that time of year. This proved a mistake, however.
For, quite unaccountably, the paint started to fall in great white strips from off the wall.
Until the wall stood there gray and naked before me, revealed in its primal state, in all its plastered glory.
Unhappy at this development, I said out loud that I was a fool to expect any sense from nothing but a brick wall.
Its response was a stolid sort of a silence.' I could certainly tell It had taken offense.
And knowing that walls have ears and hurt feelings are hard to mend,  as it gave me its wall-eyed stare I felt I had lost a human.
And even though I took care when the cold weather came to my room paint it's over, things were never the same: 
Talking to the wall all the time now no sign does it evince that it's even listening. and it hasn't spoken to me since