Doorway Beyond The Stars

The stars were beginning to brighten as I walked along the street on my way home. The moon was sliced in half and there was a cool breeze swaying the trees in the fronts of houses. Then somewhere, a block or so away, I could hear a Chopin Etude begin, stop, and begin again, its clear, icy tones like light laughter. I had walked another block when a beautiful, deep bass voice turned my head. A man stood at a third storey window, hands held out in front of him like he was grasping a steering wheel, singing like he owned the world. A few blocks further on I passed a woman in an open sports jacket, hands in pockets, strolling along on the other side of the street, whistling a carefree melody.

When I reached the front of my house I stopped and looked up at the stars. They just stood there, silent. “You poor, weak, immortal things”, I thought, “so lost and so unalterably deaf.” Then the front door opened and my wife was there.

She said, “I could hear you walking half a block away. You sounded quite happy.”

“Really?” I responded. “Do you know that you are greater than all the stars?”

“Well, obviously. Who’s standing in the doorway?”

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