The Doors of Hell

 

Carrie stood looking at the doorway framed by two pillars of pulsating fire. The dark doorway was flung into deep red shadows as the flames throbbed on either side. Across the top of the doorway, a banner announced, “Welcome to Hell”. The smaller letters underneath informed us that we were in for “An out-of-the-world experience.”

Peter prodded Carrie in the back. “Move on, Carrie! What are you waiting for?”

“It looks a bit scary,” said Mark.

Fiona scoffed at their fears. “Wimps! Come on, everybody is talking about it.”

“Yeah! Just don’t know if I am ready,” muttered Mark.

As they were watching, the door slid silently open. A figure in red flowing garbs erupted outside the door. He was clutching a menacing-looking pitchfork. Glimpses of red flashes appeared through the open door in the seconds before it slammed shut.

A deep belly laugh erupted from the figure who crept towards them. Flowing robes and maniacal laughter crept closer towards them. As he crept passed them, he flung his robes out so that they skimmed the four friends. Fiona found herself in front, with the others clustered in a scared mass behind her. Each received a prod from the pitchfork as the figure gyrated around them. His frightening leer caused them to clench more tightly together as he prodded them towards the flaming door.

Carrie started whimpering. Peter put his arm around her and clutched her close to himself.

“Come on. We all agreed to try this new nightclub.”

© Vera Alexander

Use it or lose it

He lay on the hospital bed wondering how on earth this had happened. He was a responsible man. He had never done this before. DUI? Why? How?

His mind travelled back to the time leading up to the accident. Jill had ditched him, but he had sensed it coming. So why had it impacted him so much? What was it that she had said that upset him?

She had been carrying on at him about his wasted life. She felt that he was allowing himself to be eaten up by his mundane 9 to 5 job. His life had become so predictable and boring. His job was uninspiring and did not interest him. But what the hey? It paid the bills.

Jill had moaned that his artistic talent was being abused, forgotten. How had she expressed it? He thought she had said, “Use it or lose it”. She had hit the nail on the head. He was very close to losing it. Did he even know where the paints were in his new flat?

He had sat at the bar of the restaurant after Jill had left. One drink followed the next in quick succession, only walking out when the bartender warned, “Five minutes to closing.”

He walked outside and stood undecided on the pavement. He took faltering steps to his car, pressed the remote, climbed in, and had battled to get the key in the ignition. And that was all he could remember.

When he came to in hospital they had told him that his car had tried to climb a tree, breaking his left arm and bruising a couple of ribs. He was lucky it wasn’t more serious. He was lucky that no one else was hurt.

His thoughts were interrupted when a nurse arrived and said, “Come, time to get up and exercise your uninjured muscles.”

He felt very wobbly on his legs as the nurse supported him on the slow walk down the corridor. They passed the recreation room. He looked in as his eyes widened with wonder.

“Can I use this room?” he asked.

“Yes of course,” replied the nurse. “It helps with the healing process.”

He felt his interest stirring – there were paints. There was paper.

 

 

Pennies from Heaven

I was standing in a field when I was inundated with money flying down all around me. In surprise, I stretched my hands out to grab onto the endless supply that heaven had sent me. Excitement was rising in my breast. My eyes sparkled. I began to feel an element of greediness climbing into my soul.

Money had never been important to me, so why did I want to grab onto as much as I could?

The money was forming a thick carpet around my feet as more and more rained down on me. As I looked up, there seemed no end. Notes were stuck on my head and my shoulders.

I had a sudden urge to roll around in it. I dropped to my knees. I scooped up handfuls and flung them all up into the air, laughing as they tumbled back down. I dropped into the pile, rolling around in it. I lay on my back and made “money” angels.

A voice came from far away. “Barbs, what are you doing? Barbs!”

Something was nudging me. Slowly I opened my eyes.

“Barbs that must have been some dream! You were rolling all over the place laughing.”

Oh, dear! Back to reality! How sad.