Behind the Door

“There was only one rule: don’t open the door.” Vera tugged her floral skirt slightly then rested her hands on her hips and glared at Louis.

“Yep,” Louis sipped his coffee, “that was the rule.”

“So you going to close it back up?”

“Nope. I am not.”

“So, we have to wait?!”

“Yep, seems so.” The wind began to shriek, and Louis’ coffee shook and splashed on the table. He picked up his mug and took another sip, holding it this time.

“For Christ’s sake, you can hear it coming, go shut the door!”

Louis took another sip. “You can shut the door.” The sky outside darkened, rain and hail pelted the earth and pounded their tin roof. Looking through their shotgun house, they could see the pickets of their fence loosening out front.

“Louis! Go close that damn door!” The pickets were pulled from the earth and Vera’s knuckles whitened as she clutched the countertop. Her eyes teared up as the house began to shake. Louis set his coffee down, still watching.

“The door’s not going to make a difference. You’d be best off getting to a closet.”

“You should have kept the damn door shut!” Vera screamed as she ran to the bathroom and curled into the tub.

Louis finished his coffee and watched as the porch was being torn away. “You shoulda’ shut the door,” he replied.