Trapdoor

We swallow our food
Roll back the carpet
Open the trapdoor
Underneath it is cold
Another room
Not a lounge
Or a kitchen
Just a hidden room
One that should be forgotten
All the watches stop beneath the trapdoor
Rabbit would be lost
Squeals Alice
Unaware of the danger
The potential hurt
It would be better if we could disappear into the wardrobe
But that is another story
And we are on our own
In the lost room is an old piano
They keys are yellow
She hammers out a tune
It is neither sad or happy
Just a noise to break the silence
Nothing more than hailstones
Hammering the window
We stay down below for some time
When we feel ready we will go back upstairs
I wonder what awaits us there
A new adventure
Some more time and memories
We climb the stairs
Place the carpet back
And sit in darkness
The light hurts our eyes
It is good to have an oubliette
She whispers
And I hold her hand
We look forward to our next visit there.