Despair came knocking.

A light tapping on the door of despair. She knocked, and I let her in. She sat silently for a while, saying nothing. The room began to feel dingy and dirty. The longer she stayed, the more it felt as though smoke had filled my lungs.

Despair came knocking, and I let her in. She sat on the couch without a word. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming fatigue creeping in. I began to feel tired—so very tired.

Despair came knocking, and I let her in, for a while. I could have locked the door, but I let her in for a while. Despair came knocking; I shouldn’t have let her in for a while, but I did.