Here she is...
Stanley opened the door. He sighed happily, and walked through it with only a little regret that he would have to let it close again. If the door simply stayed open, he would never be able to open it again. Although closing the door was not nearly as interesting or as exhilarating as opening it, the closing was a fact of life Stanley had to deal with.
The door clicked shut, and Stanley looked back at it longingly. "Maybe just once more?" He thought to himself. "No, I have other things to do. Must not waste time."
"I'll be back for you," he promised the door, and stepped towards one of the booths on the wall. Stanley walked across the large hall he had entered. Stanley stepped into a booth and faced the terminal, which whirred to life.
"Good morning, Stanley!" the terminal's voice box burbled. "What can I do for you today?"
"I have that tickling feeling again. In my head. I was wondering." Stanley struggled to find the words. "Was wondering about things." He finished.
"Like what?" the terminal asked happily.
"Like, about my. erm. life."
"What about your life?" the terminal chirped.
"Why am I here?" Stanley asked timidly.
"You came here of your own free will!" the terminal replied, with not a trace of sarcasm in its tone.
"No, I mean. erm. what's my life all about?" Stanley stammered.
"Your job is to open the doors! Did you forget?" The terminal asked cheerfully.
"No, it's just that, there should more. Shouldn't there? To my life I mean. More than opening doors."
"No there shouldn't!" the terminal quipped. "Isn't opening doors you most favorite thing to do in the world?"
"Yes, but why? Why not something else, like sports, or anything?"
"Because your job is to open doors! You love it! It's all you love! You were made to open doors, Stanley!" Stanley couldn't tell if the terminal was being figurative, or literal. He wasn't sure if they were capable of being figurative.
Stanley suddenly realized that he hadn't opened a door in several minutes, and began to feel rather depressed. He thought lovingly of the door to the Info-Center, its subtle lines, and its metal frame.
Stanley became aware of a hand on his shoulder. It was a friendly looking middle aged man in a government workers uniform.
"Hello Stanley. You've become bored again, haven't you?" The man said in a tender voice.
"Yes, I think." Stanley was cut off.
"Well, you know the doors at the stadium? The big ones the sports teams come out of before they play? How would you like to open those?" Stanley's eyes grew wide. "I thought so. Come with me, Stanley!"
They began walking, and Stanley ran ahead to open the door.
If you could be so kind as to post it on the site? Thank you.
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