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The Door

Doors are wonderful. They open. They close. They emit a warm glow if poorly sealed, inviting thieves and miscreants to attempt to open them. When walking through my neighborhood on a dimly lit street I hadn’t yet explored, being new to the area, I came across a door. It was a good door, sturdy and well-hinged. I believe it was a deep reddish-brown, like a good cherry table, though the street was quite dimly-lit. It stood upright, firmly attached to nothing but the stoop on which it rested. Behind it was not much other than a small, dusty lot. As I studied this door, wondering what caused it to be so well-constructed as to maintain its stance after the remainder of the building had been lost, I saw it open. It opened slowly and not very wide. A warm glow emanated from the threshold as if there were a lamp behind the door. I tried to peak in, but could not position myself quickly enough. The door closed suddenly. It then fell flat, stirring the dust in the lot into a small cloud. I watched as the dust settled on the door. I guess it wasn’t as sturdy as I had previously thought. I decided to avoid the street in my future walks.

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