door

.

“Are you coming in?” he asked. 

She stood there, her feet grounded on the floor across his threshold. She didn’t much like doors. Or rather, it’s what they meant that didn’t appeal to her, as if once crossed there was no crossing back. One minute your life was one thing and the very next it could change forever. To enter or exit, to stay or to go, a door required a decision be made. And Linda knew too well that hellos always inferred goodbyes. Am I ready for this ...

“Linda . . . are you okay?”

She handed him the bottle of Shiraz she had brought. “Yes, of course,” she replied cheerfully as she stepped through.