The faint, blunt, plastic percussion had halted his hand. But finding behind that perfect blue door piece, a mini-replica of his now ex-girlfriend made something else break all over again.
But the knocking continued. This time from further away. Down the hallway. The real front door. From his bedroom window he could see who was stood outside. He thought it strange that seeing her this time, the real her, would bring just a numb feeling when such a small moment with such a small cast would reinvigorate that agony he had escaped.
But another knock sounded.