Listing to Port

1. There is a small black door of rough wood that opens into the high-glamour halls of Faerie, the ones where fabulous beings dance all night in their masks and lace and finery, and once a month at midnight it unlocks itself and for an hour the dancers emerge on tiny silver chains. And the trapped ones are all blinking and wide-eyed and wondering where the last ten years went, and the other ones are staring hungrily at passers-by with their big yellow eyes. And after an hour a bell sounds and some great beast inside, slightly too far away to see clearly, starts the winch going to haul the chains back in. The odd thing about the chains is their fragility against the wider world; an untrapped human could melt them away just by breathing on them. But for some reason the wider world has always assumed that what is going on is some kind of goth club, and no-one has investigated further.
2. There is a door that leads to a world almost exactly like this one, except that in some key respects your life there has taken a different path. I do not know exactly what this door looks like, only that one may meet it a few times in a lifetime and that it bears a plate stating its nature and warning of the consequences of entering. Nobody remembers going through the door; your memories, too, switch to the shape of the new world. You have no way of knowing how your life in the other world differs from this one. Some people will always go through the door, and some people have never been, and some people will go only once. I do not know which of those you are.
3. There is a door, a white upvc door but it must be a door into some other world because if you go round the other side it’s a brick wall. And when you open it the world on the other side is oddly indistinct, as if what you are seeing is alien enough that your mind needs more time to make sense of it. People talk of a passageway or maybe an opening. Some say that it is white or that it is rapidly flickering between colours. Common to all accounts is the sense that there is something large on the other side that is moving towards the viewer very rapidly. And then you slam the door, and you spend a little time just breathing, and then you go home and dream about it for a few nights. And maybe, some years later, you talk about it. But by then you have forgotten where the door is or why you opened it in the first place.
4. There is a door to all the other worlds at once, a great area of cracked space like a smashed mirror in more dimensions than you care to count. Although it isn’t a door in the normal sense, it is a thing that offends the eye, and most worlds have tried to cover it up or wall it over. Some say it is the consequence of a great explosion between realities, far away in a world that does not exist in the normal sense any more, the runaway consequence of someone inexpertly tring to make doors. If you find it, I would not recommend going through. The open ways through to each individual world are tiny, far too small to fit a person. Every so often a gust of blood-smelling air emerges as someone passes into the cracks from some other world far off.
5. There is a door that you go through every day, into a world that is almost exactly like the one you were born in. The only difference between the worlds is some fact or other. It varies. Something like: the exact definition of ‘xylophone’, or the way that doctors deal with umbilical cords, or suchlike. It isn’t that you have trouble remembering which is the right version. It’s that some of the time you are living in a world where one version is true, and some of the time you are living in a world where the other version is true.