A place for thought.

The Door

Leave a comment

“We could go in,” the rain showed no sign of having mercy. My short, plastered, hair wanted a hat, a stream dripping from my chin.

She just stood there, a black line of make-up under each blue eye, “Not yet.”

A gust of wind filled with water pushed us both sideways. I grabbed her hand, not to steady her but to insure we would both leave together, “they might not even be home.” I said, just to pass the time, I knew it wouldn’t affect our condition. I think she started to cry; she sniffed and rubbed her nose with her gloved hand. I opened my coat and put my arm around her shoulders covering her back with my coat. I could feel her shudders, she was crying.

“Come on now,” it wasn’t poetry but it was all I could think to say. She turned toward me and snuggled her head into my chest. I wrapped her completely in my jacket and held her until her breath returned to normal. We stood there for years. Worlds came and went. Our chests filled and emptied together.

The wind died, the rain became a sprinkle, “knock”, she said still smothered in my chest.


Author: assumptionisfaith

david blankenship is the author of three books "Randolph W. Owens, missing on Bright Island" (a science fiction novel), "Herb" (a children's book), "Jack's second Life" (contemporary fiction) and several short stories. The books are for sale on Amazon's Kindle and published in paperback by Create Space.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s