Hall of Infinite Doors

He grins. Yes! He will win, he thinks. He bends over in a mock-professional running stance. You count. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3 - He starts running furiously, 2, 1, 0 - You start running after. The boy looks back at you, gauging the distance between you and the distance between the tree to see if the goal is plausible. Things aren't looking too up for him. He should have asked for a longer head start.