the door

alking along the dusty road was wearing out my shoes. Shoes I had used to carry me and two for a while, five minutes or five years, until they walked along on their own. The rain had periodically settled the dust and on those evenings or years sometimes there were beautiful sunsets. Lit the whole life up on the road with their soft or hot shades. Where the rain ran away to where it was being kept alive by deep rocks, there was a green. Tall green and not tall. Could put my hand on some and became entranced until some years went by.

How come they didn't talk, I said? Not the green, the green was talking, yelling, singing or sleeping...depending... But those like me, I pass from time to time, they didn't talk. I guess the sun was out that day. Must have been. Must have shot an arrow out of the blue. Written on it was "one way." One way out? One way in? Only one way? Way for one? Didn't say anywhere there anything more than just - one way. Was going only one way anyway, so I went.

Was not the dusty road, was shiny, open and it had some tricky parts, but the music was good, so I didn't mind at all. Said to me imagine this I said whata place how come nobody ever told me until now. Was a good arrow after all, let me walk on my hands for a change, very good for shoes, by god. I'll pay attention.

Ran across a paragraph said youre only a box of words and I have some at home and they didn't last worth a lick because just when you wanted them for something, there was nothing in the damn box. Smiling and beguiling a rope began to grow, starting in my hand or did I pick it up while thinking I was going to do something else. Just when you should be making mental notes you drop your pen. Thought for less time than was reasonable and decided I was ready for a ride so I just held on.

Well, there wasn't a label or mark that said watch out for the hooks so when I saw them it was already too late and couldn't let go because being hooked is something you go along with unless you have a lot of time to get better from the holes they leave and I didn't see any reason to make holes. Not one to go along, but as I said the tune was good and I was learning the words. Gave up thinking go somewhere was what I wanted to do, so imagine my surprise when in a little while, six months or less or a year maybe, there it was. Or, more accurately, it was there.

Not more paragraphs said I, you hand me these? But giving up I found them very tasty. Oh, that's right, it was there and here it was and I'm thinking coffee would be nice, coffee and conversation so much better than the tea and sympathy. Climbed up on those paragraph boxes to look around and see and it was there alright, I just knew it was. Ran my fingers with the hooks in my hands attached around and even letting the little drips of blood fall looking for a crack or hole or something but was smooth and rough and what ever it was, it wasn't going to.

Did I think I was was all done up riding a big white horse and looking for someone? Nasty question, but not surprising. Just to prove the point I folded my horse and put him in the pocket where I kept the other secrets. Then decided that must have been what was the reason for the sign that said "...the last one out has taken the door..." Return to sender...ok...sure I'll do that but you can open it from the inside, try it.

Comments on this material by Sonja Keohane are welcome.

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