My house is on fire. As I struggle to find my way to the front door to escape the choking flames, I pass by a room - the door to which is closed. I pause, because I remember that on the other side of that door are some personal effects that I hold very dear to me, things that cannot possibly be replaced. I don't know if the fire has spread to that room or not, everything in it may have already been destroyed. The only way to know for sure is to open the door and see for myself, but I've seen the movies - I know that if flames rage behind that door and I open it, all of the air from the hallway will be sucked into the room causing an explosion that will destroy not only the very things I am trying to rescue but myself as well.
Then again maybe there is no fire there. Maybe I can open the door, collect the things I love and carry them out to safety.
I know what I should do. I know what is safest. I know that I should walk away from that door, find some fresh air, and let the firemen do their job. If I wait it out and the things I love remain undamaged, then I will be able to carry them into my new life - my life after the fire. Maybe I won't be so careless with them in that life, maybe I will know where to put them so that fire can't damage them.
I hesitate, my heart pulls at me. What if this is my last chance to rescue them? What if, by leaving them alone in that room, I am ensuring that the fire will take them? What if I can save them now and not have to wait, and wonder?
I stand in front of the door, knowing what I need to do, my heart screaming at me that I can't. I reach out for the doorknob and tentatively touch it. It's not hot, which is a good sign, but it's not cold either - there's definitely some temperature emanating from it, enough to tell me that the other side might be hotter still. It's not safe to proceed, but there's no clear warning signs that I need to walk away either.
I stand in front of the door confused. I want to listen to my head, I want to listen to my heart.
The heat creeps up behind me. The smoke becomes more oppressive. I am running out of time.
I stand in the hallway, frozen, unable to move.
