Any given opportunity seldom knocks more than once, and as the door swung slowly shut behind her, he wondered at the consequences of not answering.
It’s a paradox he assured himself studying the ink stain running down his wall. The story he had read in school; the parable of doors, a tiger and a lady. Sometimes opportunity knocks with good things in hand, sometimes not so. You have half a chance to get it right, and no where to hide when you don’t.
He bit the filter of his cigarette and watched paper flutter in the breeze from the nearby window. The one through which his typewriter took flight only a short time ago.
What, he reasoned, could happen if you didn’t answer the knock? Would some cosmic catastrophe occur, or would life continue as it had before the knock; simple, unremarked.
Interesting premise as is the purpose, he mulled as he pulled a pad and pencil from his torn pocket. Was it the joy of the lady, or the experience of the tiger’s claws?
The nub of the pencil scratched across the paper as he replayed past choices with some disconnected area of his thoughts, a new story filling the page….