The Blue Door
It was the day, the day I feared most every year. Atlas had less weight on his
shoulders than I had on mine as this day approached.
The blue door was in my
nightmares, so real, so terrifying, as I climbed the steps in my dreams the door
grew larger, more menacing, but those were just dreams.
In life it was worse.
One
day a year, just one day but it overshadowed the other 364, I had to check the
door.
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