I Know There Isn't a Monster Under My Bed, But...

Down the hall from the office in which I'm working part-time, there's a door that rattles every time I walk by. (Actually, I'm relatively sure it rattles constantly, but it's like the "tree in the forest" conundrum and I'm not in a philosophical mood.) There is a part of me that is waiting for something to pop out of that door whenever I pass (even though the rational, logical side of me knows that it's just caused by air circulation or something else reasonable and boring). I've never seen anyone go in or out of that room and the door itself is completely ordinary, which only serves to further convince me that there must be a monster hidden behind it. In my head, it is something akin to the giant furry red alien that Marvin the Martian set on Bugs Bunny. So I'm patiently waiting for the Hallway Monster to finally break through the multitude of locks on the other side of the door and go roaring down the hallway to the coffee machine for a cappuccino.