Four Doors

Wearing a tattered yet comfortable knit bathrobe, Grant walked towards the front door of his stylish high rise apartment. It is a daily ritual to retrieve the morning paper. His hair was gray and bushy, perhaps the time for a trim. His long successful business career was now only a memory. And yet, as if by instinct, his curiosity to keep up with the times had not been quenched. Today, although he never knew it, would be the beginning of something new for him.

The locks on the door snapped as he turned them to the open position. The sounds seem to echo through the entire apartment. The marble tile floors were smooth and clean, yet cold. He'd forgotten to put on his slippers which were normally waiting on the edge of his bed each morning. The cold floor felt good to his callused covered strong yet aging feet. He didn't need the weather forecast to know that it was going to be an unusually cold day. He'd left the room temperature down during the night. Breathing the crisp air was how he preferred to sleep. He opened the door like usual according to the daily ritual.

The morning paper, which usually lay atop the door mat, was not to be seen. Very unusual indeed were his thoughts. This inconvenient detail was enough to make his mind wander over the possibilities of its disappearance. In his younger days, such a kink in his daily expectations may have triggered a sharp disappointing emotional disturbance. And yet now, due to the long hard lessons of life, he had learned to see unexpected events as opportunities or challenges. This morning it gave him a mission.

He stepped out into the hallway to begin his investigation. According to his cracker jack memory, each paper at his corresponding neighbor's door way was properly in place. Door 702, 753, 790, and 787 do not have the papers delivered he thought to himself. It was one of those details that most people never notice. Yet for him, this detail was easily brought out to his conscience mind to use when needed. His was the only paper missing. He is the first one up in the morning and perhaps nobody would notice if he snatched theirs. Most of his neighbors didn't have the time to read the morning paper during the week. His mind quickly calculated which neighbors were most likely to leave their paper abandoned on the door mat.

Probability can sometimes seem definitive at times. This was one of those times. Directly across from him, lived a young traveling news corespondant. He and Matt often drank together in the hot pool on the roof. It was friendship built on mutual respect. Matt often asked Grant about his political opinions. Grant was never shy about discussing them. He was also not afraid to walk over and snatch Matt's morning paper.

Suddenly Matt's Room 701 door opened. Quickly Grant was knocked over the head by an unseen assailant. Grant was stunned. As he went to the floor, he managed to catch a glimpse of the perpetrator. His mind became blurred. Soon his body gave in to the lack of consciousness.

His limp sleepy body laid for 2 hours at Matt's door. The paper was in his hand when Sandy discovered him. Both their apartment doors were open. Sandy was concerned yet annoyed. This situation did not fit in to her morning stress.