It seemed strange to see the dark, narrow slit around the open edge of the door.
Something about it gave rise to a mix of excitement and foreboding within my soul, the urge to reach out and pull it open grew with every second I stood and stared.
For as long as I’d known the house, that door had been closed.
It seemed almost part of the décor, like a picture or painting which sat upon a solid surface. To see it stand open seemed wrong, yet I burned with curiosity.
I reached out my hand to ease it open…
100 Word Story Challenge
The door that was always locked – © 2019 Paul J. Fleming
