The Invitation.

I’m standing at the end of a long, dark hall. It’s night, and I can hear the sounds of a small party: a cackle of laughter, a lilt in a murmured conversation, the clink of an unspoken toast, and feet shuffling over a thin rug.

I can see the glow from beneath the crack of the door at the end.

My eye-lids are heavy and the warmth of the sheets of my bed call to me. I would be perfectly happy to return to their known comfort, and go back to sleep. The invitation of this unseen party would fade in the morning light, and it would not count among the memories that make up my life.

However, curiosity, is powerful seductress and I find myself moving down the hall. I may open the door and find the time of my life behind it, or I may not.

I am only certain that I would regret it for the rest of my life if I did not attempt to find out.

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