The Next Door (short story)

Reflections in a Brothel

Walking through the dark streets of New Orleans' boulevard reminded me of the old days back in my homeland. Darkness filled its streets on midnight, while drunken men chanted, along with their whores, as they headed towards the nearest motel. The rich perfumes of fortunate men filled my body as they passed by me.

Lights were flashing around me, coming from the full, noisy brothels. I went in, as the whores stripped for me. Many wanted me, yet no interest did they bring me. I just kept walking with my eyes closed, for I knew the entire place. More than a year had this place been my home.

I walked to the back and opened the door. Quickly, unclothed women came into sight, all eager and ready for action. They disgusted me. As they felt my body and offered me the only thing they had to offer, I just kept walking. No stirring did they bring my body anymore; maybe a hundred years ago had a lost the feeling of pleasure.

I pushed them aside, not even looking at their faces as they threw themselves at me, and went inside the door. My mother sat in the table, reading the newspaper in her beloved table. Silence filled the room. No longer in the brothel, I felt composed. As my mother asked about my night, I just nodded and kept walking towards the next door...

I just hoped it led me into some special place....

****Every place, every moment, is a new step and a new door. Some are good, others are bad. Some are familiar, others are strange. But still, living life in those places and living through those situations make you the person you are now. Even if they're bad, even if they're wrong, they compose your whole being. Never regret anything and just live life as it goes...****