Closed Doors

Mon, 03/11/2019 - 03:47 -- hlhmay

 

There it is

The Door.

You know the one

You pass it every single day

This time, though

You stop and look

Just briefly

Then hurry on your way

And yet you start to wonder

What it is behind it

 

Every day you inch closer

And every day you run away

You glance out through the window

Run you fingers on the wood

Your hand hovers on the doorknob…

 

But suddenly it looms large!

Humongous!

And again, you scurry off.

 

Distantly you watch

People go in and they go out

You think

If you go in, would you stay?

You listen

Is it worth it?

You imagine

You move closer

The Door draws you in and beckons you near

Or rather, the thing behind the Door

You reach out a finger

Lightly trail the grain of wood…

The Door feels taller here

More foreboding

The Shadows loom threateningly

Your hand moves to the Doorknob

The Shadows grow darker

They swell towards you

Hesitation.

Fear.

But in one simple act

You turn the doorknob

And push

The Door swings open

And you step outside

 

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