It seems that all I find wherever I go are closed doors. How long have I been stuck here? Nothing is open, no windows, and no exit sign. Will I ever get reprieve? How long have I been stuck here?
Ah, no. What was the sky like again? It was blue. But, it wasn't always blue. Sometimes it was orange, or reflected lights back, and one time it was. It was. It was. What was it? No, that must have been it. There's no way I'm forgetting the sky.
Click. Is a door opening?
"I'll see you later grandma!" A cheerful voice called out. "Oh, my! You look ragged," a young girl said to me.
"I've been stuck here for so long," my voice hoarse from disuse.
"Well that's silly. Just open a door, they are doors that's what they do you know. Come on, I'll lead you out."
I followed the girl and finally saw the sky. That's right and green, just before a storm.
YOU ARE READING
Practice makes pretense
RandomHello~ In this book you will find a collection of writing done in response to prompts. I am going to be writing a prompt a day. If you have time I would love if you would respond to these two questions! 1) What was your favorite thing about the wr...
