I placed my hand on the door, and instantly a stern warning flashed up: mind your step.
“Now what in the world could that mean?”
I openned the door and it opened flawlessly. By that I mean there was not a squeak or a push for a show of anything required to get it open. It was the most perfect door experience I ever had. Normally I wouldn’t think about a door, this door was different. It’s maker must’ve been a absolute craftsman.
Still pondering the cryptic message I had just read, the door swung open and expected to hit my hand on a low hanging anything. When I was met with was of you that was expansive.
I stood still and took in the view. It was the main street of a University. The street began at the door and stretched out for at least a mile. I either side were amazing buildings that housted, I presume, students of every nation.
There are tall buildings and short buildings and buildings made of glass and crystal and some even made of brick. I could not really make rhyme or reason of the styles of architecture, except that they seem to represent parts of iall the world that I’d seen inpictures of some travel magazines
I braced myself for the onslaught of noise I expected to hear. But I was met with an avalanche of silence. It was absolutely quiet. And then I saw why. I was the only person there.
I became aware of a soft whir noise. I found the noise a few steps down the street and turn left around the small square building. In the back was decided she was before: the lock was in front of me again.
It was in constant motion juse as it was the first time I walk. It was as if the laws of physics not quite apply to it. Was another click, the platform pursued it from the lock and I took the card. It read, “Don’t be late for class.”