Line In The Sand

A doorway.

The piece of folded paper lies at the threshold as if a sentry.

White, crisp and neat, its form a perfect 2 inch square.

I could stoop down and pick it up, read it's message.

Easily I could have done that. It would have been the obvious recourse.

Only words after all and I'm sure the world would still turn after reading them.

Avoiding their significance, I chose to negate from their content.

If in fact a content existed.

A piece of paper. Maybe a suicide note or a shopping list..... a manifesto or a love letter.

I'll never know and even though I am comfortable with not knowing - it will always be a piece of paper in a doorway that I walked away from.

Withholding is also expression.