ELIJAH'S CUP

The door rattles. We dare not answer.

"It is unsafe at night," we whisper amongst ourselves, hoping no one else is listening.

Who knows who is out there? Who knows who is watching?

"Please," the door begs to be opened.

Of course, those we fear, they do not knock. They go where they want.

The door rattles. We sit silently waiting for them to leave.

"Please. Let me in. Please, it's me."

We do not answer. We remain silent. We wait for him to leave.

There will be no sustenance tonight. We can offer no relief.

"Please�" the door whimpers, softer and softer, "Let me in."

We wait for the morning. Perhaps then, the fear will decrease.