[ WP ] You died . You were reborn . You remembered your previous life . But that 's actually pretty useless - because you were n't reborn human .

The brick the wall had not always been a brick in a wall. Once not so long ago he had been a man. Not an overly good one; he had never cured a diseases or invented an invention or in fact had a bank account of any sort in the 4 figure range but he had lived and loved and laughed and never killed anyone as he was about to. 
 
 He sat there in the wall, trying to talk to the other bricks, to see if any of them could even talk, but failing because he had been quite introverted in his past life and was too shy to introduce himself so he mostly just talked to the one brick that had been a dog in the past life and while the brick, who had once been named George, could n't understand the dog, who had also once been named George, he seemed to just enjoy being along for the ride, the ride being the one through space as opposed to a more immediate one. 
 
 George kept busy by plotting out a TV show in his head. He found that he actually had quite the talent for plotting out dense mythology though he knew from c+ creative writing pieces from high school English that he was n't especially talented, or interested, in the line by line writing. 
 
 Then one day a man, who felt constrained by society, in a way that was universal except for his lack of ability to deal with such feelings in a productive or at least non hurtful way, knelt below George with a long gun propped on the window sill and George tried for the first time to really move. He was already loose and with a little convincing he was pitching through the air and he fell straight onto the man's head and cracked his head open, sending the first shot wild and then George found himself in a museum, which was more interesting than the wall and people watching really helped to round out his world but he felt a great sense of personal loss over dog George and found himself wondering where he was and what he was doing. 
 
 But then George the brick began towards decay, just as all things must, and was replaced with a younger brick that had not stopped a mass murderer, in fact had never done anything and possessed none of the sentience of George, being just a brick, but was more pleasurable to the eye and so George was thrown on a pile of artifacts that had been replaced by younger, hipper models and was destroyed. 
 
 In his next life he was a baby and then a toddler. Life seemed to come by in flashes of fragments of memory. Touching the stove, the picnic where he found the leaf and most vividly, getting the puppy named George.
