The Midnight Visitor.

The thundering knocks woke him, he could see the door vibrating from the shock. He waited, hoping it is a dream. They cannot be back. Not so soon. His mind wandered around his broken home. Battered beyond recognition. He did not have to look. He knew. His home.

The knocks had not stopped. But they had become feeble. Or was reluctance playing games with his mind? He waited. They would not stop. He got up from his bed and staggered to the door. With a final sigh , he unlocked he door.

He waited for the ear splitting aggression, the noise, the colors , the pain. Nothing. Only silence. Yet, it was not nothing. He gave way for his visitor to enter, although it was not whom he expected. His earlier inertia gave way to an urgency to shut the door and the world outside.

When he turned around, his visitor was still standing staring at the destruction. He was the only thing in one piece. Barely.

He nodded towards his bed and the midnight visitor sat down. They looked at each other. There was nothing to say . They could hear the sounds outside. The sounds that they knew so well . Yet it was far away. There was time.

The leaned on the wall beside the bed each lost in thoughts of what was and what could have been . They would look at each other as if they were conversing, or their thoughts were. The sounds outside were getting closer as their thoughts grew closer to the present.

And then the door shattered. And then the familiar noise and silence.

The destruction was complete.

P.S. Trying a hand at writing a small piece after a very long time. And it was mush that I wanted to write. Look where it got me though!