A door way.
A wall with paint loosening and coming off.
Ages of dust on the
showing footprints of others who have visited here.
Light from the other room
creating shadows around the edges and casting it’s beam on the dusty floor.
Just a door way.
A place to enter or exit.
A door to close or to leave open.
I’m really not sure
why this captured my
attention or why I even like this image.
Maybe it’s just the history, leaving me to wonder how many people were there, who lived in this residential place in the middle of an old prison, and what kind of life did they have?
With this, I leave you for the weekend, and will return on Monday.