The door felt the vibration and shuddered as it was slammed yet again. It was used to it, though. Each of them took turns doing the slamming. Sometimes it was her. Sometimes it was him. They started in one room but always ended with the door in between them. Yelling and screaming. Coming and going. It must be the door’s fault. What if the door wasn’t always in between them? It wanted to loosen its screws. Get down off the hinges. “Stop fighting,” it would say. “Don’t let me stand between you,” as it fell and clattered to the ground, leaving them an opening.