by D. Ohana
A toothy grin greets me at my Public Storage counter. He visits every week. Peering through the wire first, he opens his cage door, gaze lingering. Finally he departs.
Nothing ever placed or removed. Emptiness, that looming endless void bracketing our lives, is that what he guards so fervently? Why dare open that door? Ever.
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Based on an anecdote from a public storage facility I went to yesterday as related to me by the gal behind the counter. A little poetic license on my part for the second paragraph.
55 words is a great exercise in economy. This is my first time. Thanks.