I don’t think I will have time for the other places. They drifted into my head the other night. That I might rewrite Dante’s Inferno. 9 circles. 9 doors. Something else possible. The beautiful things. It might be eerie, but it also has comforts, and places to sleep, and safety, and even small companions. Even if you are alone, it could be ok. Whichever door you choose. I am inspired by L’s epic poem from all those years ago. Her idea at the time caused me worry. How would you know what door to choose. What if it was a mistake? But it could also be that all doors are good doors. And you don’t have to choose. You can go back and forth. You can find your way out if need be. There might always be a port in the storm.

I am glad it occurred to me that I might build worlds that give me comfort. And that I can compose out of the beautiful things I care about.

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