I’m peeking through the keyhole at an idea that excites me.

I can see only part of the room; the rest is obscured.

But I like what I see.

One does not want to fall in love with the first idea that is heard stirring behind the door. But one might.

I’m not sure how to open the door. I’m not sure where the key is, yet. I’m expecting some trials getting in there, and even more once I’m inside. I may have to squeeze myself through that tiny opening to find out what waits beyond.

A part of my head says “Don’t go there. Wrong door, this… the one with the tiger behind it; the beast that will eat you alive.”

I think I’ll risk it.

Every word on the page is an act of faith, a step into the dark. What makes it so utterly frightening is what makes it exhilarating…if only one can muster the courage to do more than peer through that keyhole.

 

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