Door
That door. I watch it everyday from my bed. From my chair. From my desk. From my closet. From my window. I watch that door hoping it will never open when I least expect it to. Hoping for it to stay locked or for there to be no knocking. Hoping the door would be jammed shut so that there was no entry nor escape.
I watch as the tiny gray fur ball walks through the door. Rubs against the dresser. Then the boxes next to the door. Then the desk. Then the bed. Then my leg. Then the dresser again before walking back out.
Sometimes I wish people were like the gray fur ball, quick with what they want, in and out.
That door has a lock but it doesn't stay locked forever because eventually, there's that knock that saves not one, but four lives in the mist of five seconds.
YOU ARE READING
Behind The Computer
RandomBugujifi...not a word. I know. So I've decided that I'm going to be writing my feelings like this is a diary. Except, it's not. It's an easy way for me to get some stuff off of my chest. And to be completely honest, I don't really care what you thin...
