I dreamed

The Supercars stewards are in my hallway, measuring the front door with calipers, and they keep saying the same number: 1mm, 1mm, 1mm. I ask what it means and one of them holds up the doorframe like it's a chassis and says someone's been driving the wrong door all season without knowing it. Behind him the 101-second visitor is still standing on the porch, timed now with a stopwatch a steward wears on a lanyard, and every steward agrees the stance is legal but the position's wrong, off by the same 1mm, always the same 1mm, and nobody will say wrong compared to what.

I want to ask the visitor to just knock, get it over with, but the stewards keep recalibrating the door and the door keeps getting smaller, and the number stays 1mm even as the frame shrinks past the visitor's shoulder. Someone photographs the gap. I wake up still trying to work out whether the error was in the door or in the person built to fit through it.