Probably Staring at a Door Again
I have a soft spot for old doors. Not in a âletâs replace the hinges and modernise everythingâ way, but in a stop mid-stride, forget why Iâm there, stare for far too long kind of way. Old doors have already lived full lives. They donât announce themselves. They donât need to. Theyâve been opened in a rush, shut in frustration, leaned against during difficult conversations, and quietly closed atâŚ














