Line In The Sand
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.