I walk down a hallway that curves slightly, each door identical. I know this place--I visit all the time, alone. I open each door and visit its inhabitants. Today I pause beside each frame and press my ear to the wall...screams, weeping, cackling. And that one, the one that rumbles... I slip quickly past onto the fire escape--the only escape into the real world from this dungeon. All the bustling people everywhere, swarming below like ants. None notice my frail figure--or none care. Whenever I come here, I end up tearing onto the fire escape, overwhelmed, and jumping. I somehow wind up walking among the crowd, which is as unperturbed as the sea when my pebble meets the waves.
I hear a nagging voice in the back of my head--you can't keep those doors closed forever. It is my internal Natasha Bedingfield: Release your inhibitions, she whispers. Let your barriers down... I know she wants me to open the doors, but can I? Without them it's a drowning deluge and with them it's a desert tomb.
The knobs rattle restlessly...
Inspired by Pendergast
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