Our lives are filled with figurative doors.
People who are optimists say that when one door closes, another one opens. A constant line of doors creaking open and slamming shut.
Right now I was trapped between two doors. Figurative doors. In truth, there was a wall behind me and a set of bars in front. The bars were technically a door, but that was beside the point.
And yes, there were walls to my left and right.
Although that goes without saying. Otherwise it wouldn't be a very good room.
So, I sat there, trying to stop contemplating figurative doors and my life. That was easier said than done.
The other door had closed behind me long ago, and currently I was still trying to turn the knob of the next.
The knob always stayed shiny and appealing in my mind’s eye, but it just wasn't opening.
Now I was rambling. I really was going mad in here.
Speaking of which, how long had I even been in here? What time was it? Even though those things were trivial, I suddenly wished I had a clock. Or a calendar.
Something, anything, to keep track of the time.
Time was just a marker. It still is. Now-
I really did have to stop being philosophical. Instead, I focused on what I was going to do when they let me go.
If they let me go.
I hadn't really thought about that before. What had I been doing all this time?
Being an optimist probably would have helped right now.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath as my surroundings melted away. There it was. That door again.
Great, now it wasn't just following me in my dreams. Is a door even capable of following a person?
No, following wasn't the right word. I was making this all up. I was imagining the door.
Still, when I heard a click and the bars swung back, the door stayed.
The knob was as shiny and appealing as ever.
I wouldn't know.
I just let myself be led away. Maybe the door that had closed behind me was my last one.