Red Door

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.
She went by that evening to see how much of a task it would be to get the door. It was not locked and it opened freely. The door was solid wood.
"Just beautiful" she thought. She laughed lightly at herself because of how this door made her feel. Was it just silly? No, she really wanted this door. She couldn't explain it, but she just knew she desired it.

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.
"Was it the humidity?" she pondered. After a few tries, the door came free but it no longer swung with ease, and it was difficult to re-open.
She began comtemplating the worth of this door. She decided she no longer wanted this door. It wasn't as it seemed and would be too unpredictable for her house.

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.
Standing back, admiring her work, she stared at the intense, deep black door.
She smiled and went inside.

© R.Lore

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