Wednesday, 9 March 2011

Doors

He dreams a vast emptiness.

Sometimes it is a desert, lifeless sand for miles, other times it is bare stone or warm, soft dust. Once it was gently swaying grass as far as the eye could see; just the once.

He crosses on foot, for hours, until he reaches the doors.

Hundreds of doors.

Behind them, he is sure, so sure, are wonderful places where his family and friends wait for him. But whichever door he picks, as it opens he knows he has chosen the same door, again. And it is too late.

He steps through, he wakes, alone.

7 comments:

  1. This is so lovely. It has magic in it...

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  2. This breaks my heart. I can feel his pain and loneliness. Great way to use the environment to portray your character's state of mind.

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  3. Thank you, Eliste. I'm glad you think so. =)

    Thanks, Magaly. It makes me sad every time I re-read it, too.

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  4. Great short John, very deep, it gave me a feeling of desolation, loneliness, and futility, and conveyed the idea of a soul damned to have the same dream for all eternity.

    If somehow he chooses the right door, will he die?

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  5. Thank you. I don't know if he's a damned soul, Steve, certainly a lonely one.

    I think one day he will pick a different door, but what happens then... well... ;)

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