‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’
The sound at the door again. All day long and every night too.
‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’
The wind is howling today, like a wounded dog. The rafters rattle and the the windows shake.
‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’
Will I ever escape this torment? The constant banging reverberates around my skull as if there was a smith in there, plying his trade with hammer and anvil.
‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’
I must have done something terrible in a previous life to deserve this. Or perhaps it was a terrible deed in this life that has led me here.
‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’
The house has a green door. It’s paint is flaking off, long in need of repair. The once polished brass handle and knocker both hang loose and dull.
‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’
I lift my hand again, reaching up towards the door. My knuckles are green.
I ‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’
