The Crossroad: A Cruel Race With Time


The doorman continued to calmy look at his wrist.  I knew he heard my feet pounding.  I knew he could sense my desperation.

My eyes became focused on this new set of double doors; the yellow oak door on the left barring any thought of a chosen future.  The dark space to the right an open passageway leading to a different world away from my current life.

Twenty feet away, the doorman released the right side double door from its bondage.  The door jumped forward and began its inexorable journey toward closure.

Fifteen feet away, the door, half way from its final destination, continued it’s slow movement mindless of my race with time.  It was an unfair race between an object with a finish line three feet away and the fifteen feet I had to cover to win the race!

The doorman disappeared from my reality.  Only the door and a widening space of darkness existed.  My arm outstretched I wanted to capture the door as I would a living beast trying to steal something away from me.  “I will catch you, you sonofabitch!”

My fingers stretched wide, I felt myself falling forward, desperate to catch the door in time.  I felt myself plunging forward, losing control, sinking; the fingers of my hand my only life line to the surface of some pond or ocean I was drowning in.

Two feet, one foot from the door!

continued …

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