Flash Fiction: The Door

Knock, knock. Hello God are you there? No? The knob isn’t warm. Must be safe to enter. A kid peers out the window, comforting. Innocence. Although, I can’t see his eyes. Do they glow red? Can his head swing backwards? I saw that movie. Bet the walls are painted green with puke? Danger, danger. Step back down the steps before the door opens. You can check in, but never check out. Yeah, know the song but this isn’t California. Why does the door have a sinister mint coloured eye? The all-seeing eye – watching you. It knows you stole from the supermarket when you were a metre high and the things you like to do with peanut butter. Nobody knows that. God does. This is hell. The door creeps open, cracking on the hinges. No turning back. Can’t fight fate in death. A black hooded figure stands at the door with a silver sickle in hand.

“Welcome to purgatory. You really shouldn’t have smeared my doorknob with peanut butter little shit. Trick or treat.”

174 Words

Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

7 thoughts on “Flash Fiction: The Door

  1. JS Brand says:

    I liked the style this was written in – stream of consciousness from the perspective of a paranoid person. If only your protagonist had visited the confession booth more often before checking into the afterlife!

    Liked by 1 person

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