The String

The String Doubt entered my mind dangling on a string. It hung like a snare, baiting the trap. I circled it warely like a cat. Eyeing it, smelling it. The aroma was both sweet and bitter. The string swayed slowly back and forth, just out of reach. My eyes following it hypnotically. The snare was silent, but it was calling me. I turned to leave, keep walking, I told myself. I almost got to the door. But I heard the whisper: "Are you sure?" My flesh stopped me cold, I turned around. There it was, hanging, waiting. It knew I would come. Slowly I walked back, feeling both delight and disgust. I couldn't control myself. I lunged at it, sinking my teeth into it. It tasted familiar. I tried to pull it, but it wouldn't budge. The harder I pulled, the stronger it got. As my doubts and fears grew, so did the string. Another string joined, and then more and more, til it became a rope. The rope made its way around my neck. I tried to pull away, but the rope tightened, like a snake constricting every doubt that flowed thru my mind. It pulled me up, until I just dangled there. Then darkness came. My last thoughts were: "it was only a string." 6-19-17