Three Doors: Poets, Memories, and Death

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers.

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.)

threedoorsHe didn’t know why his grandmother like this picture. But she told him her interpretation many times.

“Behind the yellow door you can hear poets and prose writers reading their books. The blue door contains old memories which never die. Some do escape through the opening. And the red door is protection from the angel of death.”

This is where nothing ever happens but winter always comes”.

Night Grandma!

Author: Danny James

“Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.”

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