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    LJH
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Door - 1. Chapter 1

You stumble across a man building a door in the forest/or woods.

“Sir, excuse me for asking, but why are you building a door here?”

The builder, caught unawares, drops the hammer, swings around. “Damn! You scared me.”

The long haired young man approaches him carefully. His shoes squish the water-sodden soil. “Why would anyone build a door in a forest? Totally unexpected.”

The builder considers his question, picks up the hammer, and smiles. “Indeed, but this door is special.”

“Or any forest for that matter,” says the young man, his eyes wide. “For what purpose? A door opens. A door closes. It’s a simple structure, but one that belongs in a building.” He pokes his nose behind the door, only to find branches and leaves and darkness beyond. He hears a branch snap and fall to the ground. He reaches out, touches the white wood gently, like it’s a work of art.

The builder taps the man on the shoulder. “If you look this side, you’ll see a yellow light just above the portcolo.”

“That’s remarkable, but where’s the light switch?”

“There is no light switch. It’s just on. Stays on.”

“If one were to open the door, what would one find?” the young man asks, placing his hand on the shiny door-knob.

“History? Dinosaurs. Bilbo Baggins? Mary Poppins?”

“You built the door, sir. Surely you have a specific reason.”

“Maybe I built it because I can.”

“Curiosity being what curiosity is, someone is bound to open it.”

“Indeed. That’s why I built it. I had this dream. In it a voice told me to build a door in the middle of a forest, place a camera in that tree over there, and film everyone who comes across it.”

“Like a candid camera kind of thing?”

“Sort of. What’s your name?”

“David. What’s yours?”

‘Bradley.”

“I’ve been watching you build it for some hours now, but you haven’t opened it at all.”

“No need to. I know it works.” Bradley says.

“Would you mind if I try?”

“Not just yet. It needs one more nail.”

Squish. David steps back. Bradley places the long nail. He reaches for the topmost pelmet and knocks the nail halfway through the wood. Steps back. Admires his creation. “There. All done.”

“How is it that the nail is in only halfway?”

“For the key.”

“Silly me. Of course a door needs a key,” David laughs nervously.

“And here it is.” Bradley removes a key from his top pocket. Large. Shining. Hangs it off the nail.

“Finished. What do you think is beyond the door?” Bradley asks.

“Branches. Bush. Trees. Languishing in their timeless growth.”

“That’s what many people will think. But you haven’t really answered my question. What do you want there to be beyond the door?”

“Personally, a pot of gold. Treasure. I don’t want to work my whole life only to earn a pittance. I want to be wealthy beyond words.”

“You hope there’s money behind the door?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, why don’t you try it. Take the key and open the door. But you must step through it.”

David approaches the door carefully, almost tiptoeing. He reaches for the shiny key and holds it in his hand for a few seconds.

“It’s heavy. Like a jailhouse key.”

“I forged it from real silver. Only a silver key can open this door.”

David places the key in the keyhole and turns it gently. Click. Click.

The door creeks opens.

“Remember, David, you want money. All the wealth in the world. All you need do is step over the threshold and close the door behind you.”

David steps back. His body trembling. But there’s a light in his eyes and it’s not coming from the light in the door. It’s the light of curiosity. Beckoning him.

“This is a joke, right?” The laugh sticks in his throat.

“Nope. It’s what you believe. Your needs are all that you are. Make it happen,” Bradley says.

David steps over the threshold and winces as a cold breeze smacks into him.

The door shuts behind him.

Bradley opens the door almost immediately.

“Well, did you find that pot of gold?”

But David is gone.

Just like that. Poof.

Bradley skips along the small pathway leading out of the forest just as it begins to rain. He skips and whistles and shouts out.

“It works. Woop Woop Woop and YAY. It works!”

Hope you enjoyed this short
2014 Louis J Harris
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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