Lock

Sitting inside, the rain is pounding on the windows a slight chill in the air. The drumbeat is soothing, in a way. The glare from the lights and tv artificially brightens the otherwise dark room.

The door is locked. The chain is drawn. When did it last open? Time is blending, hours and even days becoming meaningless. I’m waiting. Restless.

The door doesn’t unlock. The drumming of the rain continues. Nothing ends.

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