But, you remind yourself, it also made the kitten. You've never been entirely sure how that worked, but that's the way it had always been said, and you don't doubt it. For every dead cat, there's a new kitten--it's reminiscent of the old story of the Phoenix that bursts into the very flames that another is created from. Well, that makes curiosity seem like a metaphor for fire, or vice versa, and you're not entirely sure that's a good thing. There are many things about this situation you're not entirely sure of.
No matter. It's not like there's anything else you can do but let this curiosity lead you, and you push gently on the door, expecting it to slide gracefully open with a cliched creak. But no luck--the door is more resilient than it looks, and it takes a good amount of pushing to get it to budge. Once the doorway is finally cleared of the unwieldy thing, you take a tentative step out.
Good, good, no flames yet.
The wall, which is made of an unfriendly-looking gray stone, however, does look rather like it doesn't appreciate your intrusion. Well, good, because you'd like to be out of here as fast as possible, no questions asked, thank you. Well, maybe a few questions. You know, what with the curiosity and the kitten?
First things first, though: two more doors identical to the one you just shoved out of your way are mocking you with that weight of theirs. But, again, nothing you can do about it. Of course, that gives you a new choice: which door?
Well, seeing as how the curiosity and the kitten worked out so well for you, you decide to rely on another famous idiom. Now, if you could only choose a good one...