Sometimes when I get a random surge of creativity, I write short impressionist poems/stories. Here’s the second one:

Door no. 3

I wonder who lives behind door no. 3.

Is it an old man with a worn chequered hat or a young woman full of ambition? A family with too much love on their plate or a lost teenage soul? An old woman with a face full of wrinkles and a life well-lived? Or one with a box full of regrets and “what ifs”?

What does a door say about a person? The eyes are the doors to your insides, your fears, your hopes and your dreams.

I wonder who lives behind your eyes. Have you met them? Were they everything you hoped for?

All of us are full of dreams. Dig deep, open the door and go live them.