Nudge

From where he sat what was life or not on the other side of the door was visible only enough to see something and nothing for sure. Two or three steps, if he could nudge it open with a wish instead of his hand he would glide through. Grief had delivered him ninety eight percent of the way to the threshold where he paused too long. And they rushed him to the operating room.

Maybe it was desire to experience the adventure of the operation and the love that would follow, or maybe he was just chicken, it doesn't matter. He put off what could be done today for tomorrow and something or nothing for sure will be there when the door opens again, and it will because time is the doorman.