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Dec. 3rd, 2003 12:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
nyarbaggytep.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
just_writingOkay, I missed a day, sorry. Have decided to keep reposting and adding bits as I go so it makes more sense.
I don’t really know where I am going. Is this the starting point of something that will help me find what I am looking for? Or is it a foolish venture? What will I gain? What will I lose? How much do I have left to lose?
Not a fat fucking lot is the answer to that.
So I sigh, shrug my shoulders and open the first door. The receptionist is sitting behind the desk, long polished nails tapping phone buttons. A look at me, dismissive, yeah, I look like nothing right now. “Just you wait.” I think to myself.
I walk to the desk. She’s staring at me now, trying to work out where she’s seen me before. I could tell her. I don’t.
“I’m here to see Mr Lehrman.”
“He’s not available today I’m afraid sir, would you like to make an…”
“He’ll want to see me.”
She looks angry, she’s used to submitting to men who seem above her. I am obviously from below.
She starts to say something else.
I open the secret door a crack. “Tell him it’s about the yellow file in the locked cabinet that was by the window in his old office.”
She picks up the phone and begins to make the third door open for me. I have planned this exquisitely. I have had a lot of time to plan. There are twenty doors to open on the way. I think of them as doors. They started out as obstacles, but I decided that doors was a better word. After all, sometimes a closed door can take a lot of courage to open, but what is on the other side might be anything. Have you ever noticed how doors seem in horror films? Really big and close-up, terrifying you with anticipation.
I don’t really know where I am going. Is this the starting point of something that will help me find what I am looking for? Or is it a foolish venture? What will I gain? What will I lose? How much do I have left to lose?
Not a fat fucking lot is the answer to that.
So I sigh, shrug my shoulders and open the first door. The receptionist is sitting behind the desk, long polished nails tapping phone buttons. A look at me, dismissive, yeah, I look like nothing right now. “Just you wait.” I think to myself.
I walk to the desk. She’s staring at me now, trying to work out where she’s seen me before. I could tell her. I don’t.
“I’m here to see Mr Lehrman.”
“He’s not available today I’m afraid sir, would you like to make an…”
“He’ll want to see me.”
She looks angry, she’s used to submitting to men who seem above her. I am obviously from below.
She starts to say something else.
I open the secret door a crack. “Tell him it’s about the yellow file in the locked cabinet that was by the window in his old office.”
She picks up the phone and begins to make the third door open for me. I have planned this exquisitely. I have had a lot of time to plan. There are twenty doors to open on the way. I think of them as doors. They started out as obstacles, but I decided that doors was a better word. After all, sometimes a closed door can take a lot of courage to open, but what is on the other side might be anything. Have you ever noticed how doors seem in horror films? Really big and close-up, terrifying you with anticipation.
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