One-Hundred-Year-Old Door
by Erin Parker

Life is small right now
behind my one-hundred-year-old door
The glass is framed by painted wood
that opens to my half of a one-hundred-year-old duplex
Solitude waits in here
tense in the afternoon sunlight

The one-hundred-year-old windows rattle in the gusting wind
Chimes on the neighbor’s porch never stop, never stop, never stop, never      stop
Music is drifting in from the apartments
There is the quintessential crying baby
There is the quintessential occasional laugh
There are the quintessential helicopters over the house again and again,      flying low

A raucous crow is making daily visits to the tree by the red fence
Parrots are screeching green in the date palms in front of Carolle’s house
Peacocks have moved in and are now spotted on roofs
Coyotes venture out in the afternoons
These dangerous quiet streets

I open the front door when the sounds recede for a moment
It swings easily and I step outside
Squint in the sunlight, smell the ocean
Come back to life for a moment

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: It is so quiet now that each sound seems invasive, both welcome and unwelcome. I long for silence but I miss the regular neighborhood noise, and I wonder how it can be so quiet when everyone is home. I am noticing more and more animals coming out into the open, and I find great comfort in that.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Erin Parker’s work has been published by places like Red Fez, Drunk Monkeys, Lost in Thought, and in the Silver Birch Press Alice in Wonderland Anthology. Her collection of short stories, The Secret and the Sacred, was published by Unknown Press and is available here at the Special Quarantine Price of $1.99 for the Kindle version.