0
In or Out
He knocked on her door, which she promptly opened after three knocks. "Oh." she said "It's you." He couldn't decipher if it was surprise or disappointment in her voice. He stood by the doorway while she went in and left the door wide open.
"Wipe your feet on the mat. I don't mind dirty shoes but I hate having to clean up the tracks." She said, nonchalantly. He wondered if this was a euphemism; an analogy of what he was asking from her; of what she was willing to offer. She was, after all, inviting him in her heart and in her life; dirty shoes and all. He wondered if he was worth it, if he was worth her attention; worth her affection worth her love.
"In or out..." she says from the kitchen as she was making coffee. "You're letting in a draft and I don't want to have to catch a cold."
He smiled as he stepped forward and turned around to close the door. "So, how's your day, Dear?" He asked as he accepted the coffee she handed.
"Wipe your feet on the mat. I don't mind dirty shoes but I hate having to clean up the tracks." She said, nonchalantly. He wondered if this was a euphemism; an analogy of what he was asking from her; of what she was willing to offer. She was, after all, inviting him in her heart and in her life; dirty shoes and all. He wondered if he was worth it, if he was worth her attention; worth her affection worth her love.
"In or out..." she says from the kitchen as she was making coffee. "You're letting in a draft and I don't want to have to catch a cold."
He smiled as he stepped forward and turned around to close the door. "So, how's your day, Dear?" He asked as he accepted the coffee she handed.
