Walls

Rohan went walking in the city and it was dark and polluted, despite there being no cars and all the factories being derelict. He was heading to his world at the end of the road. There were ballerinas and rubber tyres dotted around. Somebody behind a mirror shot a rabbit, who made the noise of a cow. Rohan saw a shelf on a wall that had remained standing when its adjoining counterparts had long given up the fight. He thought it was nice, and looked at it, smiled and stuff. Then another wall came, and knocked Rohan flat on his face, chest, stomach and leg.
“Stone me!” he said. But the wall was made of brick, which is technically different to stone. He was hurt. The shelf remained.
Some other walls fell over, but not to get Rohan. He wasn't that important. In fact the wall that fell on him only did by chance, the wall hadn't actually noticed him. The shelf seemed to have seen him, but didn't look entirely sure about it. It wasn't really too bothered either, that much was clear. It had a new wall to look at now. Broken walls are much more interesting than broken hearts, or at least much more desirable. A few ballerinas danced past, didn't really see him. One asked him for the time. A rubber tyre started burning. Rohan thought he might burn with it, but it didn't come anywhere near him. He was left where nobody could see him, to lie down and just wait. But nobody could see him before, so what he was waiting for God only knows.
After 83 years, an Elven wind came and Rohan became the wall.