No matter how colorful

 

sometimes a narrative is slow to reveal itself almost as if time decided to team-up with dream-world.    

Imagine living

in a space where the door is oval.  Except there is no door.  Or perhaps this is an open window without a screen, and the front door is somewhere else in the house?  Oval doors.  Oval windows.  Open without screens.  Fodder for a narrative?  Or dream?