THE DOOR

Slowly, he moves toward the door, thoughts racing haphazardly.                    This day was a long time coming, he had envisioned a thousand outcomes.  No more thinking, the time for doing is at hand. Time to make a stand, or, maybe he could run. This was no fun.    Leaning on the door he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his cheek. When another bang hit the door he really felt weak, his stomach churned, he took a deep breath, forehead now burned. Fear invaded his being totally.      Finally he opened the heavy red door, and found himself covered in blood lying on the floor.

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