A young woman was driving through the city one day. She had come to a stop light and happen to look at a house on the corner. The front door of the house was painted red. For some reason, she just stared at this red door. She normally didn't look around or pay much attention to her surroundings when she drove through, but this time she saw this door and it struck a chord with her. She turned at the light and parked her car so she could get out and go have a look at the door. Most of the houses were brownstone types with the older architecture highlighting their eaves and such. This one stood out to her for some reason.
She approached the door and noticed it didn't seem anyone was home The house seemed so quiet, and serene. "It may be deserted." she thought. She made a note of the address and left.
The next day she looked up the owner and asked if she could have the
door. The owner was willing to let her have the door, but there was no
guarantee on its condition. She agreed and he said she would have to
do the work to get the door herself.
Saturday came and the woman got some tools and went over to the
house for the door. When she got there she headed up the few steps
to the red door, once again, admiring its beauty. How red it was, she'd
never seen such a red like this before. The wood must be something like,
maybe oak. The door was still unlocked but this time when she pushed on
it to open, it wouldn't budge. She tried again, nothing. It was stuck.
Disappointed she drove home. When she arrived, she stopped at her own front
door and stared at it. She wondered if she should paint it. She could paint
her door red, but it was just not the same. So, she went to the local
hardware store, bought some paint and painted her front door.