The Door

It wasn’t so bad, considering. There was a sink, a wobbly wooden table, a cot and even a bathroom.

The location was perfect: off a seldom-traveled path, hidden by monstrous, gnarled oak trees.

Every day, Those People brought her food and water. Sometimes, The Man came alone. She didn’t like what he made her do.

He stunk.

Once, The Man surprised her with a pair of pretty-pink shoes, (they were “just to look at”), since she’d “done good.”

She hated being shackled, but the chains were long and allowed her to walk almost to the doorway—

almost, but not

quite.

 

SusanWritesPrecise/TheAbjectMuse

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