Hole

[Lessien Melwasul]

~The form of Lessien sat on the floor with her back to the door. But not just any door. No, all of that which made up Lessien was particular about which door and which floor they waited on.~

"Every wall is a door."

~Betty didn't say anything.~

"Faith unlocks it."

~Nothing.~

"Listen to me."

"Oh, I am listening to you Alice. When have I ever not?"

~Alice, satisfied, continued.~

"I reached for sleep and drew it round me like a blanket. Then love bade me welcome, but my soul ..."

~Alice waited for Betty to finish it.~

"drew back. George Herbert, 1633."

~She did and Alice laughed out loud, banging her head and fist into the door behind them. A contented sigh as the laughter died down. Betty dug into her ever so famous coat and produced a pack of Lucky Strikes. Lit. Smoke. Tail.~

"Read it to me."

~Betty looked at the opened Chicago Times next to them, exhaling blue smoke as she spoke aloud.~

"Ernie Max, Ghost Writer, Dies at 53. Virtually unknown and totally uncared for while living the final years of an empty life under a blanket of liquor and internal fear. The life of Ernie Max was not much to behold ... it's greatest moment being the ending."

"Here she lies."

~Alice rested her cheek against the door.~

"Lie she hears."

~Betty had no doubt she heard every last word.~