Threshold

I crossed the threshold.

It took some time.

I paced the door

looked in the key hole

I even tested the handle

then finally, I crossed the threshold

only to find another hall

full of a hundred more wonky doors

This is a nice hall

I hall worth resting in

I’ll test some more doors tomorrow

 

-Sasch

Seasons of solitude Or Seasons of hell

A Distant Symphony

There’s this tiny space inside me. It has a tiny door with a button handle. A button you’d sew on a shirt. It was a fancy gold one. Round and shiny. I could hear music playing from the other side so I got on all fours and placed my ear right up against it. The music didn’t grow louder it stayed as distant but I could see flickers of light dancing just below the door. Then the smell of cookies and gasoline and cupcakes and charcoal intertwined in my nostrils. It was conflicting but curious. There was only one way to solve this. I had to turn the gold button knob and open the door to that tiny place inside me.