Wednesday Walls

Please Use Other Door She was finished talking. Only her gaze continued, waiting, waiting for a reply in the still and sticky room. The summer sun made a scorching scent of the ancient wallpaper and the curtains hung motionless, helpless. At last the rigid line of her shoulders softened, her eyes seeking answers in the corner of the empty room. She turned. Walking hesitantly toward the door, her head tilted briefly as if a change of heart had given her pause. For a breath she stared at the door and then she was gone. He never saw her again.

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Lost GalleryThe rescue mission for battered and abused orphan photographs.

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