to preface this I should say that I skipped the last one because it
scared me, because it meant that I would have to share fiction writing. I
love fiction, and I love writing it. Sharing it on the other hand...
not so much. It is easy for me to write my thoughts (on certain
non-meaningful topics) but when it is something that is basically a
window in to my brain I get skittish. So here is my first attempt at
really sharing my writing. I should also say that I'm free-writing this
so it isn't polished, but I had an idea from this prompt so I'm going
from there. There is more of an explanation for Wordbound here
. I moved over to the book section for this because it is fiction and doesn't really fit in my normal blog.
is a door in front of me that is closed. If I were to go through it it
would contain moments of my life that are "important". These moments
shaped my life and the lives of those around me. I am afraid to go
through the door because while it could show happy moments like my first
kiss, it is also likely to show the things that I did wrong. Who did I
cause pain to with a thoughtless word? How many sad or angry faces will I
see while I am oblivious?
I stare at the door. The
hallway is bright but comfortable and the floor, wall, and ceiling is
grey. The hallway has multiple doors that are all different colors.
Doors are red, blue, green, brown, some broken, some with windows. On
and on they go, seeming endless. Each door is different because they
belong to different people. I thought this would be different but when
you think about it you really don't know what to expect. I don't know
how exactly I got here but I expect I will find out when I go through
the door. If I go through the door. You have a choice, but I don't know
what the alternative will be. Would I be stuck here forever until I
finally go though? When you get here you walk until you find the door
that is yours. There is no sign, you just know. Your door speaks to you
in a way you don't understand. You recognize it in some way. Mine
resembles the door to my home, where I felt most comfortable and myself.
Strangely, one door I passed was for a dive bar. To each their own.
Staring at my door I am scared, yet I want to see.
lives shouldn't be scary. What happened can't be changed, we simply
watch what happened like we're using one of those Pensieve's from Harry
Potter. I am here and I am dead and I am afraid that the life I am shown
will not appear fulfilling because I had no "excitement". I didn't go
on big trips or make a lot of money and my "success" in life was limited
compared to others. I made no real contribution to society other than
trying not to be an asshole. But I had a family and friends who mattered
and I watched my children grow. I felt and reacted and was angry and
sad and happy. I lived and tried my best as my wisdom grew to
live each day well and without regret. I stand up straight, gather my
courage, and step through the door.