How the story line might go –

… The lights came on nearly every night.  Sometimes passersby claimed they heard music playing inside.  Local teenagers would go out of their way to keep from walking past the old building at night.

The old movie house had been empty for years.  Every now and then a new “For Sale” sign would go up, but inevitably it would be removed when no buyer surfaced for the monolith. …

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garage doors


This old garage verily begged me to stop and photograph it. The lock on the doors seemed superfluous; they were rotted and falling off their hinges. With a little imagination, the story for the lock and the doors might go like this:


. . .  The banging and rattling was making her head hurt more, something she didn’t think was possible.  Thinking clearly was so difficult.  The new lock on the old doors would hold him, wouldn’t it?  Maybe the lock would hold, but she hadn’t considered the old and rusting hinges.  If he got out now, as mad as he was (in more ways than one), she was in serious danger.

Pressing the ice pack more tightly to her forehead, she rose from the old  tattered arm chair and moved cautiously toward the old garage.  If she could just steal a quick glance at the old doors, without him sensing her, she might know if she could lay down and sleep for a while and ease the tightness in her head a little. . . .

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