She gave it one last look. Walked down the corridor to the door while Brushing the dust on the shelves with her fingers. Although it burned her from inside, she couldn’t stop to look behind her shoulder, because she knew the rule; she would turn into a pillar of salt. The challenge was to step out of the door with a smile on her face and sprinkle of love in her soul.
She didn’t look back, nevertheless she went into the labyrinth of the rooms. She went into one room which led to the garden, the garden led to the kitchen, the kitchen led to the dining room, the dining room led to the balcony, the balcony led to the bedroom… She was running from one door to the other, forward always, but never in progress. She found herself at point A. Where it all began.
These doors trap.
Finally, exhausted, she took the paint, colored the door with bright white, drew a window instead, unlocked the window with her pen and threw herself out.