The Rooms

A man crossed many doors before he came to a room he liked. The room was warm and small, like the inside of a kind animal. The man slept on the floor and watched others passing through the room, looking for a room of their own.

It had been a long time since the man entered the room and during this time, he watched the wanderers like water with no direction. They never took note of him, only the room, and he grew uneasy inside the warm and small room. It was too warm. It was too small. And so he left and crossed many doors, looking for another room he liked.

One day, he stopped inside a room with noise for wallpaper. He saw another man. Sitting like he had in his warm and small room. The man looked at him and told him that the room was taken. The wallpaper was loud. The man inside the room repeated himself, this time, shouting. The man left the room.

The man crossed many more doors. He saw many more rooms. He grew old. His legs could not take him further. He stopped in a dark, cold room. Sometimes, he heard someone passing through, but this someone never stopped and stayed in the room.

Oftentimes, he dreamt of the warm and small room.

He wondered where everyone was going. If the room he was looking for was the room that everyone was looking for. He thought about this for a long time in the dark, cold room. He thought about what the dark, cold room looked like in the light. These thoughts made him very tired. And so, he told those passing through to shut the door behind them. And closed his eyes.