Prompt: I found a key, I think it's yours

It was right here in the spot where you were sitting. And, I think if I'm not mistaken, you were the last person sitting in this place. I'm imagining how you must have gotten into your house without it. Did you have to pry the screens from the windows? And now I realize I don't know if you live in a place with screens, or even windows, but for certain there must be a door, because here in my hand I hold this key, your key. I wonder what the door to your house looks like. Is it red? Is it rounded at the top? And the lock, it must be copper-colored like this key you've left behind. In my mind, I'm turning this key in the lock on the door to your house that may or may not have windows, covered or not by screens. Does the key fit? Does it click, does the knob turn? Suddenly, I'm shy. What if you're not home, or worse, if you are. It just occurred to me you may have a hidden spare, by the front steps, under a fake rock or even the mat that says, "Welcome". I hesitate. I contemplate knocking, and as my knuckles rap upon your door, which I can see now is a bright blue, I hear the sound of knocking, but more distant, more determined. I think it must be you.