Automatic #Wind-blown Literature Club

When I was little, my mother took me to a supermarket in the suburbs.
Standing at the entrance, I encountered an "automatic door" for the very first time in my life.

The doors were made of glass, and I could see piles of fruit and colorful posters on the other side.
But that transparent wall stood still, as if firmly rejecting me.

"It won't open."
I tugged at the hem of my mother's coat.

"It's okay. Just try walking forward."
My mother just smiled and made no move to reach out.

Half-doubting, the moment I took a step with my small feet,
the glass slid apart to the left and right as if splitting open.

"Whoa!"

With just one step, the world had moved on its own.
I truly thought it was magic.

Even after I went inside, I turned back and checked again and again.
And each time the next person approached, the doors would quietly open once more.

"So it's not just for me."

As a child, I felt a little disappointed.
But on the way home, my mother said,

"You know, automatic doors open the same way for everyone."
"It's convenient, but it also feels a bit too kind, doesn't it?"
Those words remained strangely etched in my heart.

Even now, when I stand in front of an automatic door, I find myself thinking, 'It's going to open, isn't it?'

#Wind-blown Literature Club