A Thousand Doors

He’s opened enough doors to know what most of them hold. A memory. A mistake. A version of himself he no longer lives in. The strange thing is, it was never the unknown that frightened him. It was the familiar. The one door at the end of the hall. The one he recognized instantly and avoided anyway. A Thousand Doors is about that moment — when avoidance stops feeling like safety, and starts feeling like its own kind of prison. Not every door needs to be opened. But eventually, one of them does.