Dawn M. Hall
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The door slowly and quietly opens against a dark room. The young man enters cautiously. He is holding a knife in his left hand while he is using his right hand to push open the door. The light coming into the room from the window provides only a small amount of illumination, but enough that he can see that no one is in there. Taking a breath and relaxing, he closes the door behind him and locks it. He secures his knife in its pouch that is hooked to his belt loop and begins to work his way across the room. He sees the picture he’s looking for hanging on the far wall behind the desk that sits to the right side of the back of the room. As he passes the couch, he trips and, losing his balance, falls to the floor hitting his head on the area rug encompassing a small gathering area.
By Dawn M. Hallabout a year ago in Fiction