All night I lie awake, wondering about Ruby.
Has she already walked through a door like the one I’m facing?
Was she as scared as I am? Scared the way she must have been that day she fell in the hole?
I think of Ruby’s endless curiosity, and of the questions she loved to ask. Have you ever danced with a tiger, Ivan? Will your fur turn blue? Why doesn’t that little boy have a tail?
If Ruby were here with me, she’d be asking: What’s on the other side of the door, Ivan?
Ruby would want to know, and she would have been through that door by now.