This is an exercise we did in class about being terrified of the items in a closet. I'd like to know if this is too intense and starts to lack development. Is the ending fit for the story's development?
My closet is a gateway to hell. Every item of clothing disturbs me greatly. I’m standing in front of my closet with a towel wrapped around my body, and I realize that I have been standing here so long trembling looking the door, that not only have I dried, but my towel has as well. I have not moved from this spot for four hours. I was scheduled to work at three and it is now six-thirty. My eyes are beat red and in an immeasurable amount of pain from being focused on one spot. All of the sudden, I hear the turn of a door knob, but my bedroom door is open, so I know only one knob could be turning right now. The knob stops turning, and the door flies open in my face knocking me to the floor. The next thing I know I’m in a hospital bed. The nurse shows me an ultrasound of my stomach, revealing a turtle neck long sleeve shirt, well-distributed throughout my intestines.
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