Creative Writring

Who Opens the Door?

Who Opens the Door?

Creative writing varies.  The following is an example of creative writing that weaves a story open to interpretation by the reader. My goal is for each reader to take away something completely unique; therefore, I ask:  Who Opens the Door?

Who Opens the Door?

 

Who Opens the Door?

Who opens the door when the door is closed?

Is it for us to ask – too bold – perhaps? Or, in turn, do we dare?

“May we open the door?”

The Powerful are controllers of doors unopened and of doors unshut. Yet, I see you – Door of Wood, Door of Metal, Door of Steel, Door of Impossible Possibilities. Who has the power – the right – to open you?
Do we – the lowly masses – have the power?

“May we open the door?”

But, what is a door? Is it not a barrier created to protect against the invading unknown? Or, is it a portal to adventures yet undiscovered? Some doors – vast in beauty and unparalleled in strength – are the protectors of the just and the barrier for the unjust.

Door, tell us your secrets – we beg of you.  What door are you?

“May we open the door?”

Shall we wait until the Powerful descend from lofty perches created, modeled, built, fabricated from acts of treachery or truth?

Powerful are some by deeds fair, by circumstance, or by unholy quest.  Shall we wait? The masses cower in trenches until that moment when passage is allowed to a place beyond your boundaries. Are you our protector or a cleverly disguised jailor?

The Power you hold, Oh Great Door – It is great and awesome.

Evil trickster Door!

Yes, you.  Door, we speak to you.  No.  No!  It calls for no shock and surprise.  Surprise is not necessary.  It is not needed.  You are a false Door – a facade appearing as a benevolent barrier.

You are not massive in power, as so you claimed. Your jeweled knobs and hinges reveal decay and deception. Your interior is week – rotted to the core.

No, no, no.  

You are nothing more than what you are – a weak and old door. We see you for what you are, Door.

“May we open the door?”

We allowed you – granted you – the power to become our solitary jailor. You, Evil Trickster Door, surpassed, supplanted, destroyed and are now nothing. Asking is not required – it is demanded.  With inspired passion and determination, the words say: You are powerless.

Now, with splintered remains darkening the doorstep, we advance.  We walk through you and into tomorrow.