The Brass Knocker

I stand in the middle of a road. I don't know how I got there-just that I must walk down the road. So I do. I keep my eyes on the faded white dotted line, splitting the world in half. I walk the line as if it was a tightrope. Heel, toe, heel, toe. Clouds of dust engulf my feet. Even though I keep my footsteps light, placed percisely, the sound echoes around me. I look up, seeing what surrounds me. Houses-bright and welcoming-line each side of the road. Perfect, bright green grass fills in the gaps between houses. Enclosing each house in its own prison, are wrought iron fences-vines and roses crawling up the sides. There are no people, no noise. I keep walking along the line, the long, straight line. If I could feel or think anything, I would say the journey was agonizing. I walk on, passing house after house-a constant rythm that was becoming familiar. Until, abruptedley, the road ended. The line stopped right at the base of a small flight of stairs leading to a faded, peeling door that looked as if it had once been painted blood-red. Hanging on the door was a worn-looking brass knocker-a snake intertwined with a rose. The sight of the knocker was intriguing. I tore my eyes away for a moment. The entire house was built of gray stone, covered in red roses climbing towards the far-away sky. The house was beautiful. My eyes wandered their way back to the brass knocker. Out of instinct, I walked up the stairs to the door, and gripped the brass knocker. Instantly, the chill of the cool metal spread through me. I struck the door with the knocker. 'knock' The scent of metal floated through the air, stirred by the brass knocker. It almost smelt like blood. I knocked again. 'knock' With each knock, the chill spread farther through my body. I knocked again. 'knock' A thought was finally permitted to enter my mind. That one precious thought was is this what I really want? But I never had time to delve deeper into this question. The door opened with a 'kreak' and there, stood a shadow.