The two bolts
It was a serene afternoon, and I was feeling drowsy after a sumptuos lunch. Lying in my bed, wondering what to do next as the sky grew grey and greyer every second with clouds that teased a shower. “Bolt the door”, Mom said pointing toward the door between my room and the outside lawns — as is the afternoon ritual, before all at home dose off for the customary siesta. “Yes mom”, my reply as I got up.I looked at the two bolts in the door, one on the top right corner — vertical, the other in the mid right — horizontal. Made me wonder, it did — “why two of them?”, I might have thought aloud. “One supports the other”, said a familiar voice right behind me — ’twas dad. Indeed. If not for the other, not only would the one bolt need to hold the entire door by itself, it would be eaiser to break because of the angle. So they pointed in different directions, yet supported each other to uphold the plain of existence that lay beneath them, between them — reminded me of couples, they did.