Smoke and Mirrors

by Cheryl Pennington

  Hector sauntered down the dimly lit hallway, his dirty shoes grinding grit and mud into the already stained carpet.  Looking down at the fading rug he wondered if those swirls started out pink or just faded to the incongruous color they were now.  Pale curls against a dull green background.  He thought they would be better suited on a sofa.  It would at least be better than the ugly piece of crap that sat in his own living room-with the ugly sack of sh..the uglier door suddenly loomed before him. 

 He rapped his knuckles against the fake wood.  Knock, knock, knock…..silence.

He rapped more loudly. Knock, knock, knock!

Nothing. He would have pounded with both fists if he hadn’t heard the muffled sound of feet heading towards the other side of the aqua blue distraction of a door.  Again he thought, ‘How fucked…