The Door inspired by Sunday Scribblings

Inspired by Sunday Scribblings prompt 251 -Eternity

The Door
It seemed an eternity as she waited. Hand poised on the ornate door handle. All she had to do was turn it, just a few inches and it would open and finally she would know for sure. The blood pounded in her ears and her breath came thick and fast. Her palms moist. She could feel the slow wet trickle of sweat down her back bone. Just one push and it would be over. No more secrets, no more lies. The truth would dazzle her with its clarity. She knew that she would either be struck down, blinded by that vivid light, or she would fall to her knees in silent veneration, as all the myriad things that had come before were erased.

Time was ticking in long strong strokes, as seconds tumbled from one precarious moment to the next. And she, she was frozen to the spot. Silent but for the soft murmur of prayer that played over and over like a rhythmic chant. As if all that longing would somehow conjure up the ghosts of the past and bring close all those visions of the future and call to the angels that she knew watched over her. Who waited for her to do the right thing and weeped every time she failed. Tomorrow it would be too late. It was now or never. She blotted out the screaming that was nestled deep within her stomach and shutting her eyes tight, she gathered every last ounce of her strength, and with one mighty push, she opened the door.