Door, Strange, Risks, Opportunity
She was certain this was a dream; positive in fact. One moment she sat in front of her house on the edge of her garden and the next she was here. Where was here anyways? She stood on a hillside, hills green and rolling. That was the only normal thing about it.
To her right stood a tree, tall and sturdy. But it was not just any ordinary tree. It’s leaves started out green, but as the wind picked up and gently lifted them from their comfortable branches they turned different colors. Flying through the air were leaves in every color you could imagine.
She marveled at this sight, until she noticed the horizon. The sky which you could see quite clearly, for there were no mountains, was stark white. It was as though someone had covered the natural blue sky with some sort of sheet.
The clouds above her head seemed to be the only typical thing about the place, besides the hillside, which she found extremely comforting, until she sighted the rain. Drops like the leaves fell in the entire spectrum of colors, leaving her dumbfounded once again.
She flopped to the ground, in both wonderment and extreme confusion. What on earth was going on? All she had been doing was sitting on the grass beside her garden contemplating whether or not she should enter a writing contest that her english teacher had told her about. It sounds silly but she usually kept her writing to herself, a secret outlet so to speak.
A rather large gust of freezing wind delivered her back to realiy. It was then she noticed the door.
It was a plain brown wooden door, with a brass handle. The kind of stereotypical door that pops into your mind the moment anyone says ‘door’. The very unusual thing about this commonplace door was that it stood alone, no building for one to enter once one passes through it.
She stood, curiosity overwhelming. Why did I not notice this sooner, she thought. She walked toward it almost catiously, unsure of what could possibly be in store. Standing in front of the door it still appeared totally conventional, apart from it’s lack of attatched building.
At last she decided that she might as well go through the door because, it, at the moment, seemed like the only option besides roaming in the surrounding countryside; which to be honest sounded quite boring. She extended her hand and grasped the brass knob firmly. After a deep breath she turned it and opened the door, and what she saw she did not expect in the least.
It was a beautiful forest full of tall silver birches and proud oaks. Light streamed through the branches and was scattered into pools on the lush green grass. Huddled around the bottoms of trees were small clusters of purple wild flowers. A gurgling blue brook flowed gently off to her left.
How nice, she thought and stepped through the door. She was greeted by a warm breeze, sharply contrasting the harsh freezing winds of the land on the other side of the door. She sat down in a pool of sunlight not far from the entrance to her new surroundings. The door looked the same from this side too, boring and ordinary. Upon sitting she realized she had a pen and paper in the back pocket of her jeans from earlier that day.
So she began to write, write about everything and anything. It felt like hours had passed, but the warm golden sun was still high in the sky. She wrote and wrote until she had filled up her entire notebook, which when she had started was nearly empty.
It was at this moment that she realized that she was tired; utterly exhausted, and she fell asleep. ‘I really am glad I went through the door’, she thought, before some of the most lovely dreams took hold of her.
Her sleep was warm and fuffiling, but when she woke up she beheld another shocking sight. I’m home! She thought, flabergasted. And it was true, she lay in the grass, beside her tiny flower garden which was nestled beside her house. What a strange and wonderful dream, she thought, but she knew what she was going to do regarding the writing contest. I’m going to enter it of course, she thought, I have so many ideas now, and with that she sat up. But as she did so she felt her notebook in her back pocket.
She tore it from underneath herself and flipped through the pages. Everything she wrote in the dream was there. She smiled.
“How strange” she said, with a grin.