Door is A Jar
I scoffed. But it's true, I find behind me a trail of doors left off the latch. I get something from the pantry and when I am cleaning the kitchen, the pantry door is just barely open, like a girl with her slip showing. Now and again I catch myself, my fingers splayed against the door, having pushed it to the point of the catch and then letting go and then walking away, while the door, behind me, is left hesitantly cracked.