WHICH DOOR

No one was looking, they jumped over the wall, smashed the window, crawled their way through. Up the stairwell, they stumbled among many doors, “Which one to choose?”, they both pondered. “So many doors, but so little time.” Running from door to door, they each grabbed a handle, looked into each other, teeth chattering like a rattling bag of marbles; releasing their grasp, they ran to the next set of doors; with a left and a right kick, a thud and a boom, a right kick and a left kick, punished doors thickening the hallway air. “Why won’t they open!” he shouted. “Will they ever open!” he yelled. “That door!” he pointed. “Yes, this door,” he marvelled. Turning the handle, whilst behind him his knees dropping to the floor, hands reaching towards the heavens, the sound of a click. “It’s opening!” Dropping to his knees, his palms to his heart in prayer, standing up, he stepped over him from behind, pushing the door open with sprawled out fingers. “It’s time.” He murmured, as he walked further in. The shadow of praying hands becoming more fainter by the step.