Member-only story
The Door
A Short Story
“If I go through the door, I can’t go back?”
His voice boomed inside his head but became barely a whisper in the large space.
The clouds at his feet swirled, coalesced, and shivered. The response sounded somewhere from the mist, a timbre silky and soothing.
“Beyond that door is the forbidden fruit. Knowledge, ever complete, ever seeing. Your gaze penetrating the hearts of all you meet. Answers to every question, and the key to every lock. Lies will crumble at your word and you will be as a God in his glory.
But, remember, knowledge gained cannot be forgotten. A God sees not only good but knows also the darkness in every light. Can you still sup from a spoon you know has held sludge? Can you enjoy the pleasure presented when you behold the pain in its gift?
Decide, it shall not open again.”
The words trembled through him. Shook his organs, disturbed his beliefs. A droplet of sweat slipped from his dusty hairline. The space was warm, hints of hidden fire embedded in the clouds. The light beyond the door seemed cool in its brightness. Blue like ice, refreshing in its starkness.
He had never been a powerful man, burdened with endless overtime, unpaid bills and scorned advances, but there were nuances to the drudgery. A girl’s eyes of the deepest blue. His bird feeder, and it’s string of visitors. He held might in one hand and the mask of safety on the other.
“Choose!” the cloud rumbled, emitting a great blast of heat.
“I could help them. I would know everything. They will love me and exalt me, won’t they?” He asked. His steps drew closer to the opening, cold air kissing his brow.
“They will love you, but can you love them when all is bare?”
Memory. His first kiss, a kitten’s mew, and the serenity of security. He swung the door shut, and the mist departed. The slow smile of the ignorant spreading across his face.
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