Photo Fiction – 93 – The Guardian

It sits there every day. You might think the crow is guarding the door. Whether it is keeping something inside or keeping something out, is up to your imagination. Or the strength of your curiosity. You can see by the handprints smudged on the door it might appear a person was trying to hold the door shut. But then the smudges underneath could mean someone hurriedly opened the door to get inside, away from whatever was frightening them.  The biggest smudge is almost crow-like in appearance.  Is this why the crow stands guard?

The prints and smudges are almost black now, rusted over time, yet if you peer closely enough you can still see the first red-brown impression made by these hands. It is indicative of blood of course. Bloody handprints may entice your imagination in the direction of hands desperately shutting and holding the door so the danger cannot escape. Or it could mean the perpetrator of a bloody crime shut the door to conceal a murderous event. Might there be a victim enclosed in this wooden crypt?

It is also curious, the placement of such a cupboard. Is it freestanding or the doorway to dark recesses of the earth? If your imagination is piqued enough, would you dare open the door to investigate? And if you did, would you dare step inside the frame?

What secrets hide behind this mottled wood? I fear only the guardian crow knows.


2 thoughts on “Photo Fiction – 93 – The Guardian

  1. Pingback: Photo-Fiction #93 | Random_Michelle

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