The Door of Time
It was on the day Sylvia returned from her grandmother’s funeral that she found a tall man in a dark suit standing in her home.
“Excuse me, what are you doing in my living room?” She asked the stranger who stood there resolutely.
“Your grandmother wanted you to have this.” He held an old key in his hand.
“What’s it for?” Sylvia asked him, surprised.
“It’s a key to the Door of Time.” He stated. Sylvia frowned. Was this man for real?
“The Door of Time? That sounds portentous.”
“It’s the door that secures the time-stream in this world. There are creatures that live beyond Time always wanting to gain access to this dimension. Should they do so, they will do irrevocable harm to the Space-Time continuum. The Door of Time here stops them from entering the weak point in this world. You are now its guardian.”
“Why is it a door? Why not a Gate or a Bead-Curtain of Time?” Sylvia asked sarcastically.
“It’s always a door.” The man replied holding the key out to her. She snatched it from him.
Thinking back to her childhood, she remembered the door upstairs in her grandmother’s house that was always locked. She always wondered what was behind that door. Whenever she asked her grandmother about it, her grandmother always told her that that door should never be opened. It always made her more curious about what it led to. And now her grandmother had left her the key to it.
A few days later she went to her grandmother’s house, which was now hers, and she immediately climbed the stairs that led to the door. Without a moments thought she put the key into keyhole and unlocked it. Even her grandmother hadn’t seen the black rotten heart that lay within Sylvia. Now she was finally going to see what was beyond the door…
Word count: 312
This was written with the photo prompt provided by Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: 2020: Week #13. I’m 112 words over the limit. Sorry about that.
©2020 Joanne Fisher