A door closes behind me. Another one opens before me. My life: doors and side-doors, opening, closing, rooms I do not recognize, rooms that are familiar. Outdoors, indoors. Locked doors. Doors ajar. Double doors. Doors that squeak. Doors unhinged. Silent doors.
Latch, unlatch. Doors easy to open, doors impossible to shut. Solid doors, hollow doors. Doors that blow open, doors that slam shut.
Big doors. Small doors. Ornate doors, plain ones. Doors that open in. Doors that open out.
Yours is the door upon which I now knock. This day east of you, I would carry west, and lay upon your doorstep: a world without windows, without doors.