255
viewsThe Door
By Anya Tukhus, Monday, December 7, 2009There is this door I've been stepping through lately. Its scarred metal is covered in painted-over graffiti. It has no doorknob; it's a one-way door. Each time I step up to it, I pause and listen. My heart races as I try to picture what is on the other side. You see, this door reveals a different scene every time I push it open.
Who will be there? Young or old? What will they be doing? Will they stop and look at me? Will I fit in or stand out? There are no windows. I have no preview. I must take a deep breath . . . and push.
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