Handle

Some doors open. Others close. That's where the saying ends, right?

Well, it's a stupid saying. It's wrong.

The thing about doors is if you really want to, you can turn around and open them right back up again. There's a door I'm tempted to do just that with.

It's a door that's been banging open and shut for a long while now, a door that's never quite been open and only recently clicked shut. It was shut because she left and because I didn't stop her. It was shut because of our mutual neglect, our mutual unspoken decision to leave things be. At least, for now.

That time is over. It's in the past.

I reach for the handle, twist it, and slide it open.

There's a click, and a creak, and there she is.

Waiting.

Her own hand raised and ready to knock. Hesitation in her eyes. Nervousness.

When I open the door, that all fades slowly from her.

She smiles. And that's when I know that it is our time.

Our door is finally open and inviting us both in.

fin.