Through the Steel Door

There it was just as expected, on time as if set with an alarm clock. The 4:00 am door opened after being closed and bolted all day while she sat at her writing desk. She wasn’t surprised in the least.

Trying to gain access between chores and appointments had proven to be impossible. Changing gears, new perspectives and fresh starts were all futile efforts. That massive door was held shut with an invisible combination lock; the right sequence of numbers unknown to her.

At 4:00 am it slid open, but more than slid open, if she was being realistic. It flew open, wide open for her to enter into the world of endless possibilities. The other side was calling her. Although dark in the doorway, she knew there were colors beyond her imagination, worlds to discover, conversations to be had. 

Lying in bed in the dark she contemplated that door. Her creative side was amped up ready to go take those steps while her practical side knew better. She had two hours left to get some much needed sleep before her hectic day at the office.

Damn that door. It taunted her with its invitation, beckoning her to enter. 

She peeked in, sticking her head though while holding the cold metal doorframe so as not to let herself be fully immersed. It was beautiful, just as she had known it would be. Ideas flowed, new scenarios developed with unexpected plot twists, and endings wrapped themselves up perfectly after sitting frazzled and loose.

Would she be able to find her way back? She must not let this go. Reaching for her pad and pen she quickly jotted down notes, fighting the temptation to see this through to total completion. If only she had the luxury of time rather than limited to evenings and weekends. She was sure she would finally see her projects through and write that novel she had been obsessed with for years. She filled a page on her pad then with great reluctance set it aside and closed her eyes.

Opting out of eating with her coworkers the following day, she sat in her cubicle and took out her notepad. Waiting all morning in great anticipation she was thrilled to revisit her 4:00 am journey. She had enough time in her lunch break to start transcribing her notes, her laptop was open and a blank word document ready. Looking at her writing she was confused. Her notes were random, scattered, nonsensical. What did it all mean? It had made perfect sense while standing in that doorway, she was careful to write it down, let it flow. It had been magical. Where was that magic now? It had been there, that much she was sure of; however, it had gotten lost in translation somehow. Fighting off disappointment she made a quick decision. 

Rising from her desk at 5:00 pm she walked to the printer where she had sent her carefully worded document. She felt good about her decision. Her creative side approved, but her practical side was screaming in terror. Turning off all emotion she placed the document on her boss’s desk and walked out.

***

Perfectly on schedule at precisely 4:00 am that giant gray steel door opened effortlessly. This time she was ready. She had been sitting at her writing desk, laptop open with coffee poured as the time grew close. She smiled. This was it. 

As she had done countless times in the past, she stood in the doorway. She pictured that letter of resignation on her boss’s desk to be read in just a few hours. She smiled again as she let go of the cold metal doorframe and stepped through.

***

She was hoping they would be there to greet her but with that group you never knew, they were an elusive bunch.  Seeing them seated at the outdoor cafe all together made her feel giddy with joy. They stood to exchange hugs and kisses while Frank brought over an extra chair from the next table. Everyone squeezed close together, and Cynthia waved down the waiter to set another place at the table.   

“This is Peter,” Ellie introduced the new face at the table. “He works at the college bookstore. We met between classes last semester,” she continued, weaving in the details as she went along. 

Studying this new face, she was relieved to accept Peter into the group. He was a good fit, she concluded, listening to the back and forth dialog dotted with his fresh new perspective. He was quirky, quick witted and apparently quite the character. She observed the group as their conversation picked up speed taking on a life of its own.

“I’ve missed you all so much,” she exclaimed. “Let’s order a bottle of wine and catch up.”

Catching up was just what she needed. Their funny stories, the mischief they had gotten into since the last time they met had her in stitches. She couldn’t remember the last time conversation had flowed so freely in that lighthearted fashion. 

They discussed plans for their future, paths they saw themselves going down.  With many forks in the road, each decision would ultimately lead to entirely different scenarios. The choices were daunting, overwhelming if she allowed them to be, overthinking every possibility to the point of immobility. “Sometimes in life you can backtrack, choose a different road all together if need be,” Peter gently reminded her, soothing her concerns, giving her the freedom she had desperately needed.

Growing more somber as dawn began to approach, she pulled Ellie aside to ask about her mother. Concern over her health and possible outcomes had been weighing heavily on her.  “Nothing has changed,” Ellie blinked away tears. Perhaps Peter would have a significant role supporting his new friend. People come into our lives for unexpected reasons, she once again realized.

***

Much to her own dismay she stifled a yawn. 

“You look tired. Are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep? We can meet again tomorrow night if you’re free.” Vicky looked at her with concern. She was the caring one in the group, noticing details that went unseen by the others.

“I am a bit sleepy to be honest. It might be all that wine,” she laughed, nodding to the empty bottle in the center of the table. 

“Get some sleep, darling. We can meet again tomorrow night. I know a cute little bistro on the other side of town.”

“That sounds lovely. Let’s say about 4:00 am?”