The way home
Cold and drunk he stumbled through the dark and empty streets, the town unfamiliar, names indecipherable. Frozen and desperate he wandered those unforgiving streets, trying to get back to her warm embrace. The village silent and asleep, weary despair his only companion.
Somehow, finally, he made it back to their warm bed, and during those brief, semi lucid moments before sleep he realized it was the doors, the door’s faces led him home, back to her.