A Doorway To..., Flash Fiction Challenge, Fun Stuff, The Writing Process, Writing

A Doorway To… #FlashFiction #Writing #Challenge

A Doorway To...

A Doorway to… #FlashFiction 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 images below as inspiration, write a 200-word flash fiction story about what lies beyond the door. Who will you find and where will the doorway lead you? Any genre is acceptable. NB: As I write for a teen audience, please be aware that under 18’s frequent my blog.

Door Number 1 (Black Door)


Door Number 2 (White Door)

Door Number 3:


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

I’ll add more doors next Friday.

Have fun x

4 thoughts on “A Doorway To… #FlashFiction #Writing #Challenge”

  1. Mr. Amberworthy, was the shriveled man crouched behind the ivory door. Ivory, of course, for the source of his income back when it was legal.

    “Mr. Amberworthy, I’m from Dr. Edwin’s office-”

    The door was slammed, hastily unlocked, and quickly re-opened. I was pulled into a dark hallway by a ridiculously strong hand.

    I looked about, straightening the crushed neckline of my meticulously pressed scrubs. I took particular note of the curously large number of dead things scattered about the man’s abode.

    “Mr. Amberworthy, I’m here to deliver your meds.”

    Amberworthy grinned toothlessly.

    “Set ’em there on the table, sport. Right beside that platypus, there’s a good sport. I stole away that beastie my first trip to America…”

    He spun a tale of great trial in the American swmplands, hardly stopping to breathe.

    “That same trip, I killed-”

    “Mr. Amberworthy? I’m just here for the pills.”

    The man limply handed over his old, emptied Methotrexate bottle. His cane tapped the floor, echoing loudly, soullessly.

    “Mr. Amberworthy? Maybe I could-”

    Amberworthy turned away and, without a word, waved away my offer.

    Nothing left to do, I walked out of the ivory door, leaving behind the old man and his stories.

    Liked by 1 person

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