The door stood as weathered shield, ever protecting from the seasonal storm-arrows.
For entrance to the house of peace, all require a familiar door; therein is the skill of the architect. Each sees only one entrance, the one love made especially for them.
The doorway was part of the smart house, it took your temperature as you passed through and gave a recommendation as to if you should stay home or were okay to socialise.
The door was there as if a dream had become solid, as if it had grown upon the hinges and blossomed into a comforting hue.
The door was a portal to something new, a good thing to enjoy or a challenge to make better. The only way to find out what kind of gift this would become was to reach out, open it and step in.
The doorway was the kind of blue summer flowers can become when they are wet with the lightest of rain.
The doorway stood there is if it were an invitation to a new adventure, a new challenge and new chance to earn the building of the hero self.