Marge tried in vain to ignore the reminders that another year was slipping away. Where does the time go? Didn’t they just have the Easter egg hunts, and yet here were Christmas decorations!
Approaching the gaudily decorated, mirrored door, Marge tried to avoid the reflection of her lined face.
Only it wasn’t there.
Nor were any of the throngs of people. The park reflected from across the street, serene in the fresh-fallen snow, beckoned.
The world wouldn’t end if she missed work, would it? She turned and walked across to the park, the first smile in weeks on her lips.
Word count = 100
Dale’s photo was labeled “Magic Door”. I liked that, and so named my story after the photo :)