The Door

SusanWritesPrecise

It isn’t so bad, considering. There is a sink, a wobbly wooden table, a cot and even a bathroom.
The location is perfect: off a seldom-traveled path, hidden by monstrous, gnarled oak trees.
Every day, Those People bring me food and water. Sometimes, The Man comes alone. I don’t like what he makes me do.
He stinks.
Once, The Man surprised me with a pair of pretty-pink shoes, (“just to look at, though”), since I’d “done good.”
I hate being shackled, but the chains were long and allowed me to walk almost to the doorway—
almost,

but not

quite.

SusanWritesPrecise
r.nial.bradshaw

 

 

The Daily Post

2 comments

Tell it like it is

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.