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Why am I here?

I asked myself as I found what I thought was the building,OLDBUILDING and I walked through the front door a bit uncertainly holding the email with the address on it in my hand…perhaps hoping that it would magically direct me through the correct door as I wandered down the hall.

But it didn’t.

There were no signs on the doors…no “Room 1024 – Blogging101”, just the bareness of the brown linoleum stretching before me down the gloomy hall,creepy old hall lit only by the faint daylight coming through the frosted glass of the street door and one bare bulb high up in the ceiling.  All down the sides of the hall were solid old brown varnished-long-ago doors, each with a pane of frosted glass and silence…rather like old doors in a railway station on a line long closed down and abandoned to its rusty rail lines and weeds. Morose and forgotten by the world.goodshed

I could sense no life behind any door. No happy chirping of Bloggers testing their limits. No excited impatience of Sara, Michelle, Erica, Cheri, et.al. as they mused about what idiots were likely to appear on their doorstep of #Blogging101.

With some trepidation I tried a door which squealed deeply and menacingly as it openedolddoor to revealed a group of startled people who had up to then been engrossed in what looked like a study of anatomy, but could have been a gathering of witches engaged in some unholy rite as far as I know. I didn’t allow time for gathering more intelligence in case I was sucked in and dismembered.witch

My pace slowed as in my panicked rush down the hall I realised that I was not being followed, and I tried once more to assess which door might hold my destination.

I stopped at another door…pushed it carefully open to see a sign ‘Welcome to Terrorism and Counterterrorism: Comparing Theory and Practice‘.

I hastily exited and slammed the door behind me expecting to be made the victim of gunshots and waterboarding if I wasn’t fast enough.ctrterror

After ages of tramping that hallway and its many byways, I finally came upon a door labelled with a biro-written sign on inch-wide masking tape : maskingtape copy

I pushed open the door and was met by a sign saying:

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

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