Being astute, shrewd, canny bods the born and breds could  sagaciously suss the  penchant for assimilating dead give away vibes.

“And doors, in a poetical sense, in every bold brazen opportunity spotter APPROACH would be a supple exhibit.”

This fictive pairing might discern by fair means or foul.

Devotion images had been depicted, grooved, ornamentally chased with those serendipitous numbers  that transformed our status.

Might be a representative Lawrence aside.

Aging portal of at a minimum  20

year harvest. 

 “DOORWAY TO GO …. the way to go.”

Cringe-inducor but trenchant.

Lawrence and Lelia hugged whilst dreaming and recalling the history of that threshold (Door) … and connected matters “EMBRACING” it. 

“The door that salvaged  us, the fortification or rampart that  door warded off the artic  fleck and flake ice tinctured snow  so menacing?”

A shuddering  Lawrence prattled.

They both had genuine reason to past present and maybe to come”

“Yes the door …. we might have been scared a lot of the time.

It was very scary around the halloween, winter periods, unexpected irregularities in climate.”

Lavender  smirked in while stretching her moulded visage.

Devilment lurk within impish types  in circulation  exploring  steep precipice with “PATENTS”  for some largesse or SMALLESE depending on their mood.

Interesting the risks might take on visiting a dwelling high up.

It was high up a bit intimidating.

“But no so much as we thought.

The town we come from has this twinkling sparkling smeared star ambience.

Lawrence tendered a groan.

“Yes we could GO TO TOWN.

In the evening.”

Smothered giggles abounding at the gaul and impertinence of it

“Maybe we could GO TOWN to this urban area and have a bite to eat.”

GO TOWN GO DOWN

Lelia on repeat.

All manner of thoughts were now circulating about this door which must be about 20 years old at this point.

It had a certain strangeness but was like a true friend.

This relationship they had involved weather volte faces, parties that never materialised but were rescheduled at a later point only for something else to transpire.

“Don’t we have seasons of memories. All “HINGING” on this door.”

Nothing eludes her in her wry observations.

Yet there was this peculiar mystique surrounding this door.

It was with them since they won millions.

It choreographed the every interaction of this couple.

Every amusing incident and event.

It was EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE at the same time.

“Is it an open door policy we have or an overlap of circumstance since our wealth.

Silence for awhile before it slowly dawned on the couple.

“We used to in a starry eyed way look up to everyone n everything.”

Lelia reflected.

Now since they had become flush without telling anyone  anything 

Though there were a few times when they did splash out and arouse suspicions and dodgy piercing frowns of  doubt on others faces.

And of course the assessing eyes, peepers, eclipsing, anxious to spot the give away eyelid bat.

“What is it we are blind to Lavender?

There is really no “GATEWAY”  to enlightenment.”

Lawrence quite irked and discommoded.

Barriers in the scheme of things shouldn’t encroach,  but barriers often veer between cautious overreach  and literary laced  illusion.

“Our conversations are like a diary since our  cash infusion.

The shock of it all.”

Lawrence eyeing the door as if it were watch tower sentry close circuit camera and watchdog.

But have we yet to come to terms with some truths.

“Have we been getting strange stares from our neighbours who previously had been quite friendly.”

Lawrence nodded whilst glancing at the point  of entry  but somehow ephemeral.

 The amazing issue of all has been finger pointing at certain spaces and we do hear rumours doing the rounds.

Are they being paranoid.

“We got all this wealth and its appreciated. Look at what it has done for us.

But that door.  … I mean the thing is have we the time or gumption to face something.”

They then started slowly but surely to put the pieces together of this very obscure tale.

“Have we been just deluding ourselves or what?”

There is something quite odd about our circumstances, our obsession with shape of entry points and access.

It almost appeared to me maybe to you that we two together must put  our foot down.

Apply that expression to ourselves.

“Look we had this open door policy and you had a fetish about social snobbery .

The game is up isn’t.”

Lavender seemed beholden for the empathy and tact.

Lawrence was very kind but reaching the end of the pretence that was both chaotic and informational.

“ The door came down the night we spotted the pattern of numbers.

Product numbers and barcode figures.

Lucky Mascots embedded.

And we removed it when we claimed  the  prize”

Lawrence remarked.

When the weather was cold a wretched make-shift door inserted.

It was a far removed abode so few 

noticed. 

“Glad I detected those numbers.

Wouldn't change  it.

The lady luck buck bundle  was a tonic for us “

Lavender with resignation.

Suddenly a secretive silhouette of a human being presented themselves.

“Remember me ….. Aidan.

Unemployed, desperate. despondent.

I’m oath bound to secrecy in the context of your identity.

Any  “CHANCE” of some  “AID” for a “WINDFALL” spinner!

There was a FROZEN DANGER harking back to a previous submission.

The three thespians both walked outside despite the bitter plummet.

They unfurled a amalgamated  eyeball  at that antediluvian town where peepers were employed as social snub.

“Wonder are gazing at each other up and down?”

Lavender, Lawrence, Aidan seemed to demur.

“Would you ever give me a job as a DOOR MAN.?”

With an affluence  spell or break glint in his eye … the gleam before one gambles on a jackpot!

Maybe that should  be ….. wait for it

“AID”-IN  AND A-“BET”-TIN!

Aiding and abetting.

Or is life and its  ENTRANCES AND EXITS  just a LOTTERY!

DOORWAY TO SUCCESS….

AN OPEN AND SHUT CASE.

 THE EYES HAVE IT NO DOUBT.

Dedicated to the most gifted and lovely person in the world, Jay A. Pallen.

Thank you for being in all our lives.