Open Door Here I stand, alone at the front, the crowd murmuri | Nanofiction

Open Door

Here I stand, alone at the front, the crowd murmuring from stolid pews. My coat tails limp, my collar moist with sweat. I imagine her in white, coming up the aisle, my heart pounding.

But when I look, there are only faces full of pity and an empty, open door.

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