Amanda Washburn
Bio
Freelance writer and single mom. Lives in Montana with one son, two cats, and one dog. Writes everything from poetry to listicles.
Stories (18/0)
The Placard On The Door
I walked through the door. I could feel in my bones how badly I didn’t want to be there. The floor beneath me was hard and damp. Concrete, maybe. I couldn’t really see it. I knew I was in a hallway, though. It was long and dark except three lights at the end, one on the right and two on the left. Under each light there was a large door. Dark. Wood. Maybe metal. It was hard to tell from the distance I was standing. As I moved closer all I could hear were my own footsteps and the sound of my heart pounding in my ear. The first door was on the left. I was about halfway to it when I heard something. I paused to drink it in. Nope. Nothing. I continued moving forward. Wait. There it was again. It was a scream. I was almost to the door. As I approached I noticed a very small, metal placard attached high on the giant metal door. 'Self-loathing' read the placard on the door. The handle was large, round, and level with my head. I turned it and pushed the heavy door open.
By Amanda Washburn7 years ago in Psyche
The Elegance of It
I step out of the car, shut the door, and hit the lock button. The sun is just starting to go down. For some reason my heart always start beating faster when I get to this point. Maybe it is because I still haven’t gotten used to this being okay. Sometimes it is so hard for me to believe that this is my life. This is one of those moments. Heart pounding, I take a deep breath and open the door. I am immediately met by bright light and white walls with posters. The room is narrow and somewhat long. On my right is a long row of brown leather chairs, every one of them in use. The wall across from the chairs and to my left has two check-in windows and two doors. I walk up to the closest window and I am met by a young blonde woman. She is pretty and sweet as she checks my I.D. and tells me the wait time. It will be fifteen minutes.
By Amanda Washburn7 years ago in Potent