It didn’t happen all at once. These things never do.
One day, the doorknob was a little squidgy, but barely
noticeable.
In the next months, it progressed to the point where
in order to open the door, a prayer to the knob god was whispered, followed by
turning to the left, then the right, cuss and repeat till the door opened.
Closing it required slamming (sometimes twice) even on
a good day.
But she’d gotten used to it and didn’t even notice it
anymore.
The day she had the knob changed, she wept the first
time she opened the door.
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