I sat outside this historic home, the scurry of the city surrounding me, and sketched. The door opened and a young man approached.
“Do you live here?” I said.
“I take care of the place – it’s over a century old.” He watched me for a while then returned to the door.
Stepping into a world I wished to enter, he put his hand to the door. I rushed to capture the courtyard before it was closed to me. He started to pull, then turned.
“Open or closed?”
“Open,” I said. His thoughtfulness made me smile.
Love it. You’ve captured it.
Thanks, Kathryn!
Love the open door … an invitation come into something — a beckoning of sorts. 🙂
I saw it that way too, Hulda. Thanks for your comment.