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Closed Doors and Corridors
written by: David Vaughan
One door opens. Palpable tension pulls another shut. The echos of passage linger just long enough, leaving the emptiness more void. Dust motes descend through the ephemeral trail, resplendently seen in cascading sun rays, piercing through slats of obscuring blinds. The abandoned paths of souls like eerie cries of a forgotten battle that once took place. Here I stand. The dust begins to settle, though it can no longer be seen now the rain sodden clouds veil the sun’s glory. All doors, closed. Corridors are awash with shadows. My heart sinks in anticipation of the tempestuous dark already looming on the horizon.
I live in the UK but I am truly German in origin.
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