Flash fiction · Photo Friday

Through the Door

“TAKE HIM TO THE TOWER!  OFF WITH HIS HEAD!” Liz screamed before turning on her heels.  Courtiers fell like bowling pins in her wake as she stormed from the room.  Slamming the door behind her she stopped.  Why did they all have to tell her who to love?

She looked ahead.  A corridor stood before her lined with doors.  Trying to regain her composure she chose one halfway along and strode towards it.  She reached for the handle and pulled it open.

Mr Darcy stood there smiling.  There was no denying his arrogant good looks. “Elizabeth my dear I have been waiting for you” “Well you can sodding wait” she replied slamming the door in his suprised face.

She picked a different door opening it uncertainly.  It opened into a garden.  It appeared to be empty as she cautiously stepped in. She wandered along a path.  To the right she saw the remnants of a long forgotten tea party.  In the distance she could see a lake. She approached it entranced by its beauty.  She stood gazing at the reflection of the sun on the shimmering surface.  Her slience was disturbed by the clatter of hooves. She rolled her eyes.

The prince launched himself from his charger landing infront of her and dropping to his knees.  He reached out grasping her hand which she wrenched from his grip.  She leant forward taking his head between her hands.  She stooped forward and planted a kiss in the middle of his forehead.  With a puff of smoke he was gone.  In his place a large green frog that happily launched itself into the water and swam out of sight.

She looked round again the garden had lost its charm.  all she could see now were the imposed lines of formal patterns enforced upon nature.  A wall she hadn’t seen before stood a few metres away a small door set against the red brick.  Shrugging her shoulders she headed for it.  the door was stiff reluctant to open.  She grasped the handle with both hands and pulled.  It flew open and she fell backwards.  Stood just the other side was a boy.  A year or two older than herself.  He looked awkward, uncomfortable.  Nothing special just the boy next door.  The boy her parents said was strange, no good, bad news.  She stood up and walked towards the door just as she was about to pass through it….the alarm sounded.

Grumbling she reached for snooze trying to hold on the the door handle but it slipped through her fingers as the sun seeped between her eyelids. Damn she thought. Tonight maybe she would find the right door quicker.

6 thoughts on “Through the Door

    1. yes and no. sometimes the characters from books i am reading do creep into my dreams sometimes in very strange places but the doors thing comes from my grandad. when i was little and had a nightmare when I told my grandad about it he told me that when I got scared in a dream to look for a door and to walk through it and keep going through these dream doors until I was in a better place. I now use doors when i dream to control them to some extent

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