day 27: are there more wheels or doors

Play this game in a group of three.
Are you all met?
Okay.
Are there more wheels or doors in the world?
Let’s all say what we think on the count of three, okay?
1 2 3
-

If one person says doors and two say wheels read this:
Like time and civilization, all things roll down hill.
Gravity is inevitable.
Newton knows about this, so does Johnny Appleseed.
Like the universe and a wheel in a dusty vacuum, all things roll until they reach the bottom.
The ending is inevitable.
Everyone knows this. Even the wind. Even the stars in the sky.


If one person says wheels and two say doors read this:
Aren’t you getting damp, out there in the rain?
A newspaper isn’t a great substitute for an umbrella.
You should come inside. Come in from the cold.
It’s too cold out, so we’re opening hotels and Airbnbs and empty Montauk mansions for the homeless.
When the nights rise again over 40 degrees, we’ll turn them out into the streets again
Let them build up cardboard cities with newspaper blankets
so we can burn them down and wash them away, into the storm drain.
Take off your shoes.
We’re not a “no shoe household” all the time, but your sneakers are damp.
I’ll stuff them with newspaper, so they’ll be dry when you leave.


If everyone says wheels:
Congratulations! Good things are coming your way. Can you feel them, floating in on the spring wind?
The pinwheel is spinning again, and the birds are waking you up at the ass crack of morning.
Get up, bitches! They carouse into the golden 6 AM.
Get the fuck up! Good news is on the way! It’s spring again
And everything is green and gold
And the pinwheel is spinning in the gorgeous, gorgeous breeze.


If everyone says doors:
Maybe this is how it is -
you’re always going out of the room.
There you go again, clearing the dishes after the holiday meal
You’re in the kitchen now, but a moment ago you were in the dining room.
Chasing the dog down the hallway into the breezeway into the driveway -
A door you don’t even remember open, left -
Propped by a stone or a brick or a child’s shoe.
And you’re ducking under stone archways of cathedrals and cave mouths,
rushing into the tunnel at 80 miles per hour - because it’s late and even the city is sleeping -
Rushing out the other end in the same breath.
Do you feel it?
Even now, you’re going out of the room, into the next.
Into the next.


TO BE READ AT THE END:
To conclude:
Let’s linger for one moment - on the threshold.
On that perfectly balanced point.