Doorways

By Sally Sennott

Janus had double booked a barber appointment.

He stood me up for a haircut.

Janus is the god of time.

The new lunch date showed promise.

“I was up and fully dressed,” Janus said,

“With face washed and beard trimmed.”

But Janus has a secret he doesn’t share.

“I think I’ll lay down for just a second,” flashed in his head.

“Take me down the passageway…”

Janus is the god of doorways.

He says he couldn’t hear the doorbell,

Or the persistent knocks on the door.

He didn’t hear the cell phone ringing

Three times in quick succession.

Deep in a heroin nod, Janus dreamed on.

Nirvana is his preferred reality.

He simply spaced out again.

Janus looks forward and back.

“So very sorry I missed our luncheon date,” he says.

“Are you okay?” I loyally ask.

“Don’t leave me,” Janus pleads.

Should I walk away?

Will I catch my breath?

I will not go through his revolving door.

It’s time to turn and walk away.

Sally Sennott is a graduate of Duke University and lives in Milford, NH. She is a retired newspaper correspondent and editor of a local museum newsletter. Sally has written two plays as well as a children’s story that were produced into videos and featured on the local cable access channel (AOTV).

Sally Sennott

Sally Sennott is a graduate of Duke University and lives in Milford, NH. She is a retired newspaper correspondent and editor of a local museum newsletter. Sally has written two plays as well as a children’s story that were produced into videos and featured on the local cable access channel (AOTV).