The Door (an October Post)

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My view of the office door is partially blocked by the wall of a cubicle. From where I am in the room I can only see its upper portion. Whenever I’m expecting someone — a meeting, consultation, paper submission, or a scheduled delayed exam — the door never fails to taunt me with its consistent movement. Arrivals are always a tease; to wait is to outlast forever.

It opens, or at least moves a bit — sometimes fairly quick, sometimes excruciatingly slow. I expect footsteps, or someone to say “Is this Mr Salvosa’s office?” Sometimes the person who opens the door is looking for another person, an officemate or my boss. Sometimes the person is just lost or clueless on where the other offices are located.

The door opens within my peripheral vision, and I lower my head in my attempt to avoid such distraction especially when I’m catching deadlines or whenever I’m thinking hard about something. But the door is always there, it cannot change its position.

Sometimes it opens, gently, and no one enters the room. It usually happens whenever I’m alone, especially at around seven or eight in the evening. I would just stare at the space on my left, expecting someone to appear.

But no one is there. No footsteps. Just the air and silence. The door clicks to mark its closing.

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