Daily Prompt: Breathing Room
An extra room has magically been added to your home overnight. The catch: if you add more than three items to it, it disappears. How do you use it?
He slowly unbent his creaky knees and stood with one hand for support on the den closet door frame. The packing and clearing out was taking longer than he would have imagined. The accumulation of decades, it’s amazing how it all adds up he thought. If only the kids would have stayed a bit longer, if only to help him out a little.
He ambled out of the den and headed to the kitchen to make some tea. Upon passing his bedroom door he heard a light knocking noise. It was coming from his wife’s closet just like before, years ago when they had lost Fusspot the dog, but then it had been a faint scratching noise. They had never figured out what it was and soon enough it had stopped and they thought of it no more. He unfolded the doors, the closet was still full of all of her things. It was going to be hard to get rid of it all, but never mind he thought where is that knocking coming from? A sense of urgency was creeping over him and he began to toss cloths and shoes out of the closet with a renewed vigor he hadn’t felt in a long long time.
“Well, would you look at that!” He muttered, sitting down with thud on his wife’s little step stool.
There, taking up the bottom half of the back wall of the closet was a small wooden door. The knocking was louder now, and a scratching had joined it to make a kind of melody. He reached a tentative hand towards the knob, unsure if he should open the door. The noise stopped. Where did this door go to? Why did we never notice it before? He let his hand drop. The knocking and scratching began again more earnestly now.
“Oh, to hell with it!” He wrenched open the door. There was nothing there, only darkness beyond. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled through grimacing from the pain. Once through it slowly got lighter. It seemed an empty little room, and then he saw his wife with Fusspot next to her. The little dog ran over to him, his tail wagging so hard that he fell over a few times.
“I found out what the noise was.” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled in that way she had when she was pleased with herself “I have been knocking for such along time.” She came closer to him, bent and touched his face a serene look upon her own.
“Be a dear.” She said “and reach me the little step stool, I am so tired of sitting on the floor.”
“I must be dreaming.” He muttered, pulling the stool into the room.
“What was that dear?” came the usual question when he spoke too low. He smiled, happy, elated, there were no words for how he felt at that moment. He looked behind him, the little wooden door had vanished and another had appeared across the room. His wife and Fusspot were standing infront of it waiting for him. He slowly stood up, his knees creaking, with his hand on the wall for support.
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