Once, many years ago, I knocked on the front door of a stranger’s house just to get a glimpse of what was inside.
Windows and doors hint at and promise so much. They are literal entrances into other worlds.
Someone did answer the door I knocked on, all those years ago, and I seem to remember a dark and empty hallway: Nothing to see, move along, move along. I don’t know what I’d expected. Probably nothing. It was not knowing that spurred me into action. The possibility of what lay behind the polished wooden slats was irresistible. The reality could not help but be a disappointment.