“Red door, red door,” Robert intones as he walks, “Red door,
red door.”
He's synchronised his incantations with his paces, red for the left
foot, right for door. His eyes sweep casually from side to side,
scanning the doors, desperately hoping that the next one he sees will
be red. But it never comes into view so he just keeps walking and
talking: “Red door, red door.”
He wonders what will be behind it, when he finally finds it. He's
sure it's going to be pretty spectacular if he has had to travel so
far to get there, but he has no idea what it could be. He doesn't
even know where to start speculating.
So he keeps walking, chanting his mantra, scanning the doors, and
time passes.
