lach·ry·mose [Original Work]

Mary had bit her lip and crept out of her room, her tiny feet making no noise on the carpeted hallway. When she finally come to a stop in front of mommy's door, she saw the edge of mommy's bed because the door wasn't shut all the way. Mommy was always so concerned with keeping the windy drafts of their old house out of their bedrooms, that it seemed odd to Mary that her mommy left her bedroom door open. She had turned to look back at the open window, trying to make some type of connection.