With a hop, a skip and a jump Rosemary clears the three steps to her front porch. She opens the screen door and holds it against her left hip. Her back screams in pain as she bends forward resting her hands on her knees.
Hop skip and jump? What am I – in third grade? Is my back out? I so hope my back is not out. A bath. That’s what I need, a nice warm bath. Nothing else. That’s all I’m doing tonight. I’m not even making supper, just walking straight to the bathroom leaving a trail with my clothes as I go.
Rosemary straightens back up, inserts her key into the doorknob and turns it a complete clockwise turn. She removes her key from the doorknob and appears deep in thought.
That’s it. I won’t even put my groceries away. A bath and then straight to bed. Nothing else. But a candle. Ok. Make that a warm bath and a candle. No bright lights. The mood will be perfect to forget the day. A bath and a candle. The end.
She opens the door and drops her grocery bags inside. Rather than enter she lets the screen door slam shut before her and stands staring at the doorway from the porch. She appears to have a second thought.
A bath. A candle. And a glass of wine. Yes, that’s the plan. I will walk towards the bathroom ridding myself of my clothes, run the bath, go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine then I will light a candle. I don’t care about anything else, that’s all I’m doing.
She opens the screen door again, places her laptop on the floor nestled between the wall and the grocery bags. She enters and shuts the door behind her. She locks the door and kicks her shoes away. She takes a deep breath in total darkness. She brings her hands together and quickly claps them twice. Clap-clap!
Why didn’t the light go on? Is the bulb out again? I’m sure Rodge changed it for me yesterday. It’s a new bulb. Roger. Mmmm, him and his strong capable hands. I could so go for a massage, but I can’t have him over. No energy. I need to stick to the plan. Maybe I clapped too fast.
Rosemary claps her hands together again, but slower. Clap… clap. BOOM! The lights go on.
Holy mother of kryptonite, why so bright? Have I been invaded by the Griswolds?
Rosemary is blinded by the lights. She squints and claps again and again hoping to turn the bright lights off. She keeps clapping as she walks towards the dimmer hallway. As she makes her way she stumbles and trips over something carelessly left on the floor in the middle of the mud room.
This better not be Roger playing tricks on me. He knows how I hate surprises unless they involve deep tissue massages. I want my bath, my candle and my glass of wine. Wine. Didn’t we finish the last bottle yesterday? Change of plans, bath, candle, and a beer. Better make it two. I will need to kick Roger out. He doesn’t fit in tonight’s plan.
As soon as she enters the hallway the lights go on. It’s like she’s on a stage and a spotlight is following her every move. Her emotions go from fatigue to fear. She runs to her bedroom.
“Roger? Is that you? If you think you’re funny, you aren’t. Whatever you have planned you better stop. NOW! Just get out!” Note to self – never give a set of keys to boyfriends. This is my private domain, my castle. I will so wring his neck for this.
Once she heard the über loud clicking sounds followed by a high piercing shrill Rosemary knew without a doubt she wasn’t being pranked. If that wasn’t enough, the high piercing shrill was immediately followed by numerous slimy tentacle-like arms enveloping her. She was being wrapped by something she did not find pleasing. Whatsoever.
Oh this is not pleasing at all. This is not what I had in mind when I wished to find myself submerged in something warm and wet. Is this when I can start freaking out? Have I just pooped myself? Is there a limit to how many stupid questions I can ask myself when I am obviously being invaded by something utterly disgusting?
And just like that she was gone, and so were the mysterious creatures who owned those slimy tentacle-like arms. The lights went out and all that was left behind was a puddle of bright blue slime.
This is a Daily Post writing prompt: The door to your house/flat/apartment/abode has come unstuck in time. The next time you walk through it, you find yourself in the same place, but a different time entirely. Where are you, and what happens next?
I guess I cheated on the theme a bit, that’s what happens when the creative juices start flowing – you don’t decide where the story goes…
Check out some of these cool submissions for the same prompt:
- A shift in time | Fifty Words a Day
- What A Strange Little Man | Fish Of Gold
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Wrong Door | One Starving Activist
- WP DP WC…THROUGH THE DOOR | ACT. REACT. or just THINK about it!
- more to come…