The dark blue door seems to stare at me.

It's a like a portal to a new world.

A world I can only dream to be apart of.

The faded numbers and letter.

The old door knocker is quiet.

How many people have used it?

The sounds of Baker Street ring in my ears.

The atmosphere for this door couldn't be better.

The London street, the shops, the voices of the locals, the rumble of cars.

I raise my shaking hand to the door and knock.

Knock on the door of the detective and doctor.

I hear footsteps, the time has come.