It Starts With a Step

Standing in the darkest hallway, staring ahead at the door with the thin bar of light below. Go ahead. Take that first step. Most people don't. It's safer to stand in darkness and be unaware of the world around you than it is to explore and learn and think.

Feel the slick surface of the walls as you guide yourself. Know how many hands have caressed where yours are? None. The dust beneath your feet will mark your footprints only. Brave. For all you know you could be walking into the mouth of hell. Just the little guppy lured to its death by a probing light into your inquisitive mind.

Maybe it's more of a gate. Rusted, instead of gold. A pauper sleeping in newspapers instead of a kindly old man with a clipboard and impatience. A yin to the upstairs yang. Maybe it's all this. Or maybe it's something new.

Take the door handle in your hand. Feel the gleaming brass pressing its cold surface against your sweaty palm. Twist and push the door open. A dazzling bright light engulfs you and for a split second you feel like Richard Dreyfuss will tell you about this Close Encounter. But none of that is real. Just a movie. Unlike this.

As you take a few steps in, the door slams behind you. Cliched, but you're too scared to realize that. Your heart beats faster, senses on red alert, and you find yourself neighboring panic. But sit and feel welcome. We're all friends here. Rules of the house permit no violence. Luckily, I make the rules, but I promise I won't hurt you.

Welcome to my imagination.

JvP