Somewhere, there is a door which leads to nowhere. It isn't on the side of a house opening up into thin air, or cemented into the side of a building in front of some bricks. No, it is nowhere leading, to more nowhere.
I bet you know where the door is. I bet you think about it all the time and never even realise you're thinking about it.
That's probably for the best, really, because opening up a door to nowhere could be very dangerous. In fact, it could be downright stupid, and yet there you are, flirting with danger. You think about it without really thinking about it, dancing back and forth across the line of whether or not it's real. Oh it's very real I'll tell you that, but don't think about it, because thinking about its reality would mean opening it, and who wants to open a door which leads to nothing?
In the end though, the door is always opened. It's always there, teasing. You can't not open it, because it's not alone. And leaving one door closed means opening another.
Labels: choices, decisions, door, fear, nothing, prose
