A Door to Nowhere
The Door to Nowhere
Was it really only yesterday? Coralee thought hard, and could not remember. It was yesterday, or the yesterday before that, or some other yesterday; so many yesterdays to consider.
“Where am I?” she wondered. “I came through a door; a door to somewhere, or a door from somewhere. I can’t remember!” She sat down on the balcony she’d not noticed before, and had a good cry, eventually falling asleep.
Or was she asleep? It was all so confusing. She did not know where she was, who she was, or even why she was. Wracking her memory for any clues, Coralee became all the more frustrated and frightened.
The sounds assaulted her ears; rushing, booming, pounding sounds that would not stop. She tried covering, even plugging her ears, and that only made the noise worse. Was she going crazy?
Why did no one hear her screams and cries? Why did no one come to her aid? She broke down and cried again. She did not know what to do, and she was truly terrified.
Then, in the distance, she saw someone approaching. They were calling out to her, asking if she were there. “I’m here! Right here!” She answered, but it seemed they walked on by. Then one of them suddenly said, “Did you hear that? It sounded like a woman crying or moaning!”
Coralee was elated! Finally, someone was going to help her. She rushed over to them, and heard one say, “Oh, wow! Did you feel that?” And Coralee fell down; fell off the balcony, all the way down, but she was surprised that she did not get hurt. Her fall was broken by soft grass.
And then, she had the answer. In front of her she read the words on a stone: “Coralee Johansen, 1920 -2013.” She did not remember. She did not know what happened. All she remembered was going through that mysterious door.
Once upon a time, fellow author Bill Holland issued a challenge to others in the group, to create a story based upon a photo he supplied, with a mandatory beginning sentence.
That photo appears at the top of this article, and was one of two different angles of the same subject. We were free to choose whichever one we preferred.
With that, he granted permission for everyone accepting the challenge to use the photo (or both of them) in their story.
It was a fun exercise.
© 2015 Liz Elias