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The Room with a Door
Nora stood beside the sofa in her brother's living room, her bag still on her shoulder. The kitchen was close. She slept on that sofa night after night, and every morning the television was on, the kettle was loud, and people walked past her feet. She wanted a room with a door she could close.
"The small room is free," her brother said. "It is full of boxes. You can use it, or you can stay on the sofa."
Nora went with him to the end of the hall. He opened the door and waited. The room was small and dusty. Boxes sat on the floor, on a chair, and on the bed. A little light came through the curtain. The air smelled like old paper.
She stood in the doorway and listened. On the sofa she heard every cup and every phone.