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Innocent at first sight. Doors closed and all. Little one knows about what lurks behind prim white doors. Those unfamiliar, uaware. Inside, the depth of something that given one moment of carelessness will result in a dangerous exchange. My clothes closet.

Open the doors to the unsuccessful attempts at organization, negotiating space constraints, means to poke one’s eye out, leather landmines and unexpected waterfalls. Yes, waterfalls. Of the fabric type. Some soft and pliable. My sweaters and t-shirts. Some slippery and difficult to fold never mind control in orderly piles. My running clothes. The final teetering waterfall, the one to be feared. The sturdier more solid piles of purses. One wrong move or final “Pick up Stick” purse placed without strategy and the whole thing will come down. On my head. Then smacking down to my bare feet. I find I now curl my toes under in anticipation when it’s time to change out my purse. The domino effect initiated.

But don’t curl your toes under too tightly or risk loss of balance from the shoes marching their way out onto the open battlefield. What’s left of open space in this upright casket of horrors – the floor. Once contained in organized shelves and then baskets, my loves have now turned against me. Plotting my demise by finding ways to trip me up as I duck waterfalls of shrapnel from above. Weaken your recall of the terrain and become victim, slipping from a renegade kitten heel not properly paired with its partner. Just watch what and how you reach out to steady yourself. Remember. Look for something solid to steady yourself. Like a wall. In no certain terms is a jutting hanger ready to jab fragile tissue a valid option. Remember the black eye. Is it no wonder I procrastinate hanging my clean laundry? Once a fashionista wanna be, today I settle for presentable and uninjured.

Should you ever not hear from me for an extended period, please check my closet first. The skeleton in the closet? It could be me…with my favorite purse on my head and that dreaded (but oh so cute) kitten heel peaking out from behind me. Maybe it’ll be that pair of stilettos that finally does me in?? Well, at least they’re Italian leather.

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