I could recognize the various knocks on my door easily, it helped that I had only one regular guest, and she always knocked lightly, unless she was in a group of two or more people, then her knock was much louder. Aside from her, there was the police, who knocked even more obnoxiously and I generally expected their arrival in advance.
At my door right now, was an unrecognizable knocker. I couldn't see out the door, because I had blocked all the windows completely to avoid letting people see in. If I moved the coverings aside to see who my caller was, they would be alerted to my presence and I could not pretend to be absent any longer.
As I ruminated over this puzzle, the knock repeated itself. That meant, whoever it was, would not be going away. Unimportant visitors usually gave up after a single knock, such as the individuals who would deliver free groceries to the less fortunate. Those people would never believe me when I would tell them truthfully that I was not actually starving, despite the appearance of my dwelling and my own ramshackle countenance, because, after all, everyone refuses charity even if they do actually need it. My awfully groomed beard that I had grown to scare people away from me and my raggedy clothes that were economical and off-putting, never had the desired result on the charitable. They were drawn to men with my sort of style, secure in their notion that their good intent would insulate them from any form of harm.
I decided to risk answering the door to see who it was, though I knew it could be disaster if the visitor was revealed to be someone I was avoiding.
On the other side, was a purple-haired girl, but on her, it looked as though it was her natural hairstyle, not the dismal, trashy look of most dye jobs that had no effort put into them. She was pretty, but to stare at her too long would be rude, and I cast my eyes elsewhere, and found she was holding a large, freshly caught fish.
"What's the fish for, I asked?"