We locked hands in silence. The darkness hid our fear. At least, I thought it did.
Walking quickly, we passed through what appeared to be a hipster street party. Smoke butts, thick rimmed glasses, no invite.
There it was. The tall wooden door frame carried many secrets. I could tell just by looking at it. Curled iron. Cracked green paint. Carved initials.
Looking up, her blue eyes gave me strength. Yes. She was taller. Still is. I miss her strength.
Some days I see it, faintly. If only she could see what I saw.
If only she knew her own strength.
If only we could go back to the tall doorway and hide ourselves in the exposed corners.