The light comes through the tin cut panel door of the pie safe. The small cut outs that have been made in a pattern, the tiny holes that let out the aroma of that which is inside. Have you ever wanted to close the door on a feeling, or a thought, or on someone? Have you ever wanted to run away, not look back and hope that this will change that which is chasing you? Has it ever been that no matter how hard you slam the door it still sips in, beckoning you to turn around and embrace the pain?
Light is at the end of the tunnel, even when you are standing in the middle, the darkest center.
photo: A pie safe door panel made by my cousin.
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