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  • Karim Gamil

My doors

Four doors in the dark. In a line. I approach them from left to right. Should I number them to keep track? I do not think this will be necessary. I do it anyway. Just in case.


I count to four

From one to four

The numbers do not seem

to follow any order anymore


They used to. Now they do not. At least in my head. When I say them out loud, they are not numbers anymore. They are simply memories in an empty room with four doors in the dark.

Four doors in the dark in a strict order. From left to right. They are not from right to left. All doors have a handle. These four doors have a handle placed at the vertical left in the horizontal middle. Therefore, they must open inwards. I do not need to check. I could, but I do not strictly need it. I will check just in case shortly. Before I check the order of the doors, of which I am certain I go through my reasoning. I take a step back and position myself so that I directly stare into the space between the second door from the left and the second door from the right. I take a step back to get a better view before I go on to my reasoning. I position myself so that I directly stare into a space between two doors. Particularly the third door from the right and the third door from the left.

Four doors in a dark strict order. A sinister order. It does not want to be, but it is. I know, I see that it is at the very least, if not willfully then passively, sinister, diabolical, mundane, and disgusting. I will not count the doors anymore. Never will I ever count these doors so that I lose the sense of my surroundings.


Four dark doors stand in a tall strict order. If there was a sky, they would reach far beyond it. Into that which lies beyond the skies. And then after reaching that which lies beyond the skies, they reach far beyond that. Space is that which lies far beyond the skies. If there was space, the four dark doors standing in a tall strict order would reach far beyond it. There is no sky and there is no space. So, they only stand in a tall strict order. They do not necessarily overcome anything or reach beyond it.


Four dark-


Four doors in the dark open simultaneously and let out a hurrying wind. The wind is very strong, and it hurts me and my eyes. I close my eyes, but the doors are still there. I cannot open my eyes because of the wind. I must close the doors. I did not close them before, but I will. I will close these four doors before its too late. I will not, I will never live with myself knowing that I could choose to close these four doors and chose not to.


Four doors close in the dark. I listen to them as they are being locked. One after another. One door after the other is locked. I respect what I cannot change. I do not really but I would like to. It would rid me of many vices. I suffer often because I cannot respect the will of the doors. I once opened the doors. I did not like what I saw. I once opened a door; I will not say which. I opened the fourth door. The fourth door opened the first door. The first door was not the fourth door. It can be, but in this instance it was not. I went and closed the first door. The fourth door remained open, which was a relief. However, the third door opened. I left the first door for a minute. I approach the third door and before I could reach up. The third door closed by its own. There was no one there. Nobody saw or heard what happened. I did though. I knew exactly what happened, but nobody else saw or heard the second door. It almost opened. I was busy with the first and the fourth, so maybe it thought, “he is busy with the first and the fourth, I will use this chance to open all the way, just for a second, just for a second I will open all the way and it will be done. A second will not hurt me. It will not hurt them. Nobody’s hurt and everything will be done”. Maybe this is what it thought. If this is what it thought, it did not say it.


Four doors and the shadows of their alternating movement. The first door is opened. The fourth closes. The second and the third open. The fourth opens and with it the first door closes. The fourth door closes and the third closes. The second door closes. The first opens and the fourth closes. The second and the third open. The fourth door opens. Then, the first door closes. With it the fourth closes and immediately the third door closes. Then, the second door closes. The first opens, the fourth closes, the second and the third open and the fourth opens.


Three doors. One former door. A pile of chopped up wood on the floor. Next to one of the three doors. I will not say which. I am ashamed. I thought it was necessary and acted upon my judgment as anyone would. I am not ashamed and do not regret it.


Two doors which spread out endlessly through my vision.


One door is all I have.


I do not have any doors anymore and I am alone.


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