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Golden Knobs

The wind whistles in-between my empty fingers. I run my hands through my hair, which has turned an astonishing shade of auburn. The leaves of the trees above me glisten and crack against the trunk, and suddenly they are all falling down, on top of me, pressing down on my chest. I can’t breathe.

I’m running down an empty hallway, door after door staring at me with accusatory eyes. I feel a feverish need to open a door, to empty myself into a room, but none of the doors catch me in quite the right way.

A deep mahogany one looms in front of me, its golden knob swiveling side to side, enticing me. I stretch my fingers out. I am so close. I slide open the door and step lightly and quickly into the room.

He’s there.

His eyebrows twitch up, as if saying, ‘Now what?’ I leap through him, through his irises, onto the sand. The ocean laps at my toes, like a dog. The tide goes in and out… lap, lap…

I’m shocked awake. I look down at my Jack Russell and sigh. Now I’ll never know what was supposed to come next…

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