Door #1?
There was something about the door that offended her. It was ugly, a blunt object, hewn out of a slab of oak. In high summer, it was warm to the touch, almost flesh-like in texture. Even in July, the hardness and solidity of the wood affronted her. That she didn't know what was behind the door made it even worse.
January 11, 2010
© Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 1144 times
Written on 2010-01-24 at 05:22
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Door
There was something about the door that offended her. It was ugly, a blunt object, hewn out of a slab of oak. In high summer, it was warm to the touch, almost flesh-like in texture. Even in July, the hardness and solidity of the wood affronted her. That she didn't know what was behind the door made it even worse.
January 11, 2010
© Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 1144 times
Written on 2010-01-24 at 05:22
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
