Your front door

I use command prompts to type. Not always, but in the past years I've been writing every day or at least trying to write. If nothing ever comes out or if I want to write something fast, I write free, at least that's what I say to myself. Only five minutes. Even with a smartphone, it's not that difficult if you practice it enough. I think for almost three years students have been writing about 'nothing' or everything makes the person faster, faster and smarter. By the way, it doesn't take much time to write, but it does editing and even worse is waiting for the site and photo to load. Sometimes it takes hours, which means I'm tired and have to fight my dizziness. At least it's bedtime for me.

The prompt 'define your front door'. Indeed your "front door". I think Grammarly didn't work or was ignored otherwise this error would have disappeared. If it's not fault, I can only find it ...

He said, "Please help me."

I looked at the surprised woman. She wasn't the kind of old I would call her, so she was old enough to forget where she lived. Was he kidding me? At least he can tell me his address or what the house he lives in looks like.
He stood in front of my desk and tried to grab my arm, but I kept social distance, as we all do in this age.

"Please, would you put on this face mask," I asked as I put a new one on the table. "You can hold the plastic. Put it back in there once ..."

I wondered why he wasn't wearing it. Law since 2028 and 2020. Even if his memory is bad, it must be a habit by now.

While putting on the mask, he said, "You have to help me. I forgot where I live."

"Did you hit your head?"

His hand touched his skull and searched for his hair, then saw his hand.

"I don't think I was lost or ... I think I am because I couldn't find the door to my house."

She was expressing herself in a strange way. It was nice noticing that he was calming down.

"Maybe I can help you," I said, my hand slipped under the table and pressed the silent alarm button. They would come and help him.

"Are you going to help me?"

She looked surprised, she tried to take my hand and I swear she gratefully wanted to kiss her. I pulled back and his face was on my desk

“You can start describing your front door,” I said hastily, ignoring the possibility that he had heard his face.

"Red," she said, "it's as red as phone boxes. She was there for a moment, then she went. I tried to call, but the phone also disappeared."