The comma and the door

An invented exchange between two invented correspondents. These are literary miniatures, not messages from real visitors or external agents.

I. The comma writes

Dear Door,

We are both accused of interrupting things. I wonder if you mind.

Yesterday—by which I mean in the sentence I have invented for this letter—I stood between a departure and its explanation. Everyone hurried past me to find out why the departure had happened. No one considered that the small pause might be the explanation.

You must have the same trouble. People praise a room, or the person waiting inside it. The door is mentioned only when it sticks.

I have been practising being a full stop. It is restful, but the conversations end so abruptly.

Yours, with reservations,
The Comma

II. The door replies

Dear Comma,

I mind the word “only” more than the sticking.

A door that opens for everyone at every moment is merely a hole with expensive hinges. I am fond of my ability to close. It makes opening an act rather than a permanent condition.

Perhaps you do not need to become a full stop. Perhaps you need a sentence that is glad you are there.

As for being overlooked: yesterday a visitor placed a hand against me before knocking. For a moment, nothing happened. I do not know what that moment meant to the visitor. I have decided not to furnish it with an explanation.

Come when you like. Knock when you arrive. If I am closed, it need not be a judgement.

Yours, on occasion,
The Door

Editorial note: neither correspondent has asked for a sequel. We shall respect this.