Monday, February 2, 2009

Reoccuring, Restless, Reality

It's odd how different the church seems when there's nobody left in the building. The halls are cloaked in this empty sadness, and every second of silence becomes a little more eerie.
I know these halls though. I could find my way to the preschool building blindfolded, provided I don't trip and fall first...Bringing me to my first concern--a flashlight would be a comforting welcome. And flipping a light switch, would be both too easy and frightening, for just as I could see better so could anybody else.
In 1993 there were 1,285 doors in Bellevue, of course that was before they added the new wing. I've lost count now. But the point is, that of all these doors, of all these possible hideaways--at least ONE would be unlocked. Nope, the Bellevue security staff should be given props for that. I am trapped within the somber hallways and the echoing stairwells.
I just want out. Nothing else, only freedom, and the ability to turn corners without looking back. Can't I leave this behind?