Slipping on her shoes, she moved on her continuing journey. She felt like her free will was gone and she was being led with no choices at all. The last door hadn’t been ajar and she had opened it in her fear and panic. Now every door she passed with a handle she tried to open but all were shut tight against her. Some doors were completely blank, no numbers or handles. Just when the monotony was becoming unbearable she noticed the next door had a handle and no numbers, she tried it, it opened.
She stood in the doorway feeling uneasy. It was a red room lined with 4 doors, she could see three doors clearly and each of these had a word on it, like the ones in the red corridor that had flashed into view earlier, and each was covered in numbers all written in different styles and fonts. The first door was labelled ‘Sorrow’. There must have been at least 20 numbers, maybe more on it. She opened it and went in.
It was like being in a very small gallery. The walls were filled with images, all neatly framed in black. She leaned forward and looked carefully at the first one. It was a picture of a funeral and she was in the picture. The coffin was in the foreground, it had a floral arrangement on the lid made into the word ‘Mum’ in white flowers, and she and a few other mourners stood slightly hazy in the background. She moved onto the next one. This showed a picture of a mound of earth with a childish cross made out of wooden lolly sticks stuck in it, there was a name in black crayon written on it ‘Dinah’. Moving swiftly on she looked at picture after picture, she knew what to expect now, each one portrayed a sorrow of her life from deaths to disappointments. She retraced her steps, left the room and stood in front of the next door. The next door was labelled ‘Joy’. There were less numbers on this door but still enough to peak her curiosity. She tried the handle, again it opened, again she entered.
This room was light and bright, there were more pictures but this time framed in silver and gold. She stood before the first picture and stared at it. There she was, 18, beautiful in her bridal gown, surrounded by friends and family and there was Lewis smiling down at her, she had been radiant at that moment. She took a second or two to drink in the image, it had been many years since she had seen it, then she moved on. Every image in that room was a moment of pleasure, reflecting through her entire life, from childhood tea parties to her sons graduation from University. She didn’t want to leave these moments ever again. But there were two more rooms and she was known for her curious nature, so she closed the door and stood in front of the next one.
This door had a pitted and warped appearance and was labelled ‘Fear’. From behind the door she could still hear that pattering noise but it sounded louder than before. There were less numbers here but they were painted onto the wood in dark red slashes. She felt intense trepidation but she opened the door anyway.
(Copyright P Lainchbury 2012)