Working on ‘The Door’, this is a revision. I want to show my readers my creative process; what I edit, delete, move or expand. I would also love to develop this short story into something a little larger.
It swings open slowly.The house is empty and the creaks keep her awake at night. It opens and there is only darkness beyond.During the day, the tea kettle screams. She takes it off the burner, pouring the hot water into a cup, tea bag floating to the top. The groan of the floorboards under weight, echoes from down the hall, she is still and waits, will it shut or open? The door lets in or keeps out, the darkness just beyond.
Revision (Part #2?)
The house is empty, except for she. She lives there with the mold, the warped wood and ruffled roof. At night creaks echo through the house keeping her awake. The sun peaks into the room, a window cracked open, and her eyelids finally close. It swings open slowly. It opens and there is only darkness beyond. The groan of the floorboards under weight, the shadow creeping closer and closer towards She, towards the morning light. Eyelids open. There is nothing but sun.
The tea kettle screams. She takes it off the burner, pouring the hot water into a cup, tea floats to the top. Pull the string, the bag jolts, up-down up-down, the color swirls to life. She is tired. She does not hesitate, she gulps down half the cup. She lets the hot drink sear her mouth.
If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing! I hope you return in the future!