#AtoZChallenge D is for Doors #flashfiction Drabble

The team's theme of the April Blogging from A to Z Challenge this year is:
ACCOMPLISHING YOUR DREAMS, AND THE DUALITY OF 22

The WEP team has accepted the challenge to write for the A – Z. This time we’re playing tag with the letter “D”. We’ve decided D is for Door/s. As we’re lovers of #flashfiction, we’re writing in the form of “Drabble” = flash fiction of exactly 100 words. (Yolanda Renee is on hiatus).

 

Behind the Door

 

I’ll be lighthearted some time and peer in -

behind the door will be the ball you forgot,

neat hooks to hang things, walls that look too clean -

except a backpack-shaped amorphous spot

where that hung for years. A square rim of grime

will mark out a photoframe and passing time.

 

I’ll be lighthearted someday again between

your coming and going, growing, nothing caught

on the wardrobe shutters, bedclothes pristine.

Just some odd scraps of poems I once wrote

for some vanished milestone, in half-slant rhyme

will claw at my days and at passing time.

 

Nilanjana is a bi-lingual writer, blogger and market researcher. She specialises in poetry, panic and tinkering with bucket lists. Her physical address keeps changing now and then but thankfully her online home is constant at Madly-in-Verse.

 

They Told Her

She sat in front of the hedge where everyone told her there wasn’t a door. It didn’t lead to anywhere other than the neighbour’s yard. And Mr. and Mrs. Harrison wouldn’t appreciate either a hole in their hedge or a girl’s footprints on their perfect grass.

They told her the hedge was made only of leaves and branches. They told her there wasn’t a land full of wonder and magic beyond. They rolled their eyes and laughed. There definitely wasn’t a door in the hedge.

She pushed to her feet and opened the door anyway.

Jemi Fraser writes small-town romantic suspense stories filled with heart and humour.

Behind the Basement Door

 

Mine is inspired by this photo. https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-storm-surreal-door-2880028/

It's also inspired by real life tornados that went through my state recently.

 

 

Huddled under the table, Mable cuddled into her mama’s side. The basement door rattled 

on its hinges. The wind howled.

 

Mama stroked her hair. “It’ll be okay, baby girl. The storm will pass soon.”

 

Mable knew what a tornado was. She’d seen pictures of them and the damage they could do. 

She never dreamed she would have to hide from one.

 

She covered her ears as the roar outside grew louder. She couldn’t block it out no 

matter how hard she tried.

 

The storm would pass soon, she hoped, but what would await them when 

they opened that basement door?

 

L.G. Keltner writes many things, though primarily sci-fi, while also caring for 

her energetic children. She lives in a small town in Iowa.

Romi Ran

Romi ran. If the enemies caught her, they would shoot her. Their boots trampled behind the corner, loud in the silence of the night. The houses stood dark, afraid. She didn’t dare knock on doors. Nobody would let her in, not against the occupants’ orders. Suddenly, stairs to a basement yawned in a narrow lane between two houses. At the bottom of the short staircase, choked with garbage, a half-door was ajar. Romi stumbled down and crawled in. She pushed the door shut, leaned on it. The enemies’ boots slapped past, their barrage receding. Safe for now. She started shaking.

Olga Godim is a speculative fiction writer from Vancouver, Canada. 

When she doesn’t write, she reads and makes book covers.

Vampire Hunter

The crumbling bricks of the castle behind me, I happen upon a twisting stone path below street level. I follow its twists and turns, sheltered by branches above which shake and whisper in the evening breeze. I imagine they warn: beware. The moon gives enough light for me to see. Around the curve, a door appears.  I stop. Look. See no one. See no thing. Where does this door lead? The hairs on my arms raise. To the subterranean tunnels beneath the surface where the vampires live? I feel the heft of steel in my hand. I push open the door.

Denise Covey is an Australian author of contemporary and paranormal romance. When she’s not dreaming up stories based on her travels, she loses herself in the pages of books.

Do you ever write flash fiction?

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