story in a photo #3

a grand imperial-like door was all that stood between a message and its intended receiver. 

one scroll. a document with knowledge that could change the current course of events. this scroll, which had witnessed so much, now firmly in the hands of its true messenger; at last.

the messenger's hands rested gently on the wooden panels of the door, drawing strength; the strength needed for the task ahead. why these troubled feelings and anxiety? were there not graver missions faced before? why the uncertainty?

were the messenger’s actions right, or was the path ahead soon to be filled with regret? with all these thoughts simmering, the only certainty was that this mess was no longer in their hands. no longer in control, the wheels have already started to turn.

history was to be made this very evening, with the messenger’s actions serving as the needed catalyst. as you may have realized already, this was no ordinary messenger.

taking one step back, slowly placing the scroll inside the folds of a worn cape-right above their heart-the messenger reached up to the large metal knocker,

and tapped 

and tapped

and tapped.

the messenger’s heart skipped a beat, as their ears recognized a familiar pit pat pattern of footsteps approaching the door.

it was time.