Squeeeeeeeeee, clunk.
The way a door with the little doohickey (that thing that keeps them from closing too quickly or opening too easily. I never have been sure what they’re called or what they’re for.) closes – slowly, with resistance, then shutting resolutely – always gets me. Sometimes those doors test my patience, but they usually make me smile. The noise they make seems to personify a struggle. The weight of the door fights against the resistance of the doohickey until it is finally overcome, at which moment the door sighs with relief and relaxes, feeling accomplished.
Sqeeeeeeeeeee, clunk.
That clunk makes me proud of the door.

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