Fiction, Flash Fiction Challenge, Fun Stuff, The Writing Process, Writing

A Doorway to #FlashFiction – Writing Challenge

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Flash Fiction Writing Challenge

Inspired by one of my Pinterest boards, this is a flash fiction writing challenge based on the following theme:

‘Doorway to…’

“The door you are afraid to enter might lead you to the most beautiful and magical places.” 

Using one of the image below as inspiration, write a 300-word flash fiction story about what lies beyond the door. Who will you find and where will the doorway lead you? Any genre (except erotica) is acceptable. As I write for a teen audience, please be aware that under 18’s frequent my blog.

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Post your story in the comments below and be sure to read, like and comment on any stories posted by other entrants.

Have fun.

3 thoughts on “A Doorway to #FlashFiction – Writing Challenge”

  1. Doorway to Nir

    Human noise far behind, Nir sits, his back to the bridge he has just crossed. Kasol is fragrant with harsh spice and sun-sweetened bark. The air hangs tentatively in quiet commune with the visitor. He thinks of his days spent in military service over the past three years, the faces of the friends he has made, and smiles. He thinks of the university where his studies started. He is free to return to them. He finds himself both grown from his experiences and nervous after much time away from his books. He is here in India to take time, to feel ready, and then he will return home to Israel once more.

    As he contemplates, a door reveals itself amongst the trees. What? Was this always here? Nir hears his thoughts as if spoken. He wonders if he did – if he spoke. He stands, moves toward the domed door. He reaches out, his fingers brushing the confident carvings in the wood. He is surprised as the door swings gently inward, as if a wind of magnitude beat against it.

    Walls of brilliant blue house the cool dark tiles of the stairway that winds itself down. Nir feels the pull; the cooling welcome, the mystery to be explored, lure him. Light spills through glass from coloured windows, illuminating the painting to his left as he descends.

    Sudden clarity holds him fixed to the concrete beneath his feet, the stairs above him. The space is small and round, the walls an iridescent gloss. The effect is of a disco ball. Numbers from his books dance around him, symbols of logic bounce between them, algebraic formulas float behind. Apprehension leaves him as he holds true. The disco stills to reveal his reflection. Before himself he stands, his path clear as it ever was.

    Like

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