There was a crooked door where a very crooked man lived… and so on. I wonder how long it would take to get used to a door like this, would I perpetually creak over to one side in order to feel that I was standing upright? Or would I start to lean slightly with the door, and slowly over the years, end up with a permanent bend to the right as I walked about the city? There was a crooked writer who lived behind a crooked door, she leaned to the right with all her might, and thought the rest of the world not quite right.
Oh my! I just got over a few weeks’ worth of vertigo. If I had seen this door then, all of my thoughts about “It’s just in your head” would have flown out the door (pun unintended) and I would have had to take more than motion sickness pills! But I do love the picture!
Hi Para! This door did my vertigo in also! Thanks for the lovely compliment!