Ellie Imani

She called herself Lynn.

She called herself Lynn as a reminder. Peeled herself like orange around the corner separating her bedroom and hallway from the rest of the apartment. By the time she got to the front door, she shivered icy chills of doubt. The door knob was there, but putrid and reminiscent of uglier time gone by. She’s polished it, but the psychic stench remained. For some reason she thought of a strange visit from two years ago.