A quick, short piece that I wrote for a prompt with my school’s creative writing club.


“Was that door there yesterday?”

Phil shrugged and took a sip of the jet black, sugarless sludge that he called coffee out of his mug. We both looked at the tiny door in the break room wall that had appeared overnight.

“Don’t think so,” Phil replied. “Should we open it?”

I scrunched my face and cocked my head, pondering Phil’s question.

I knelt down to get a better look. 

“I mean, what’s the point?” I asked. “The only thing on the other side is Johnson’s office.”

“Yeah, but I was in Johnson’s office earlier and I didn’t see no other side to no tiny door in there.” Phil took a big swig of sludge from his mug. “You think someone is messing with us?”

“I dunno, man. This seems like a lot of work just to mess with us. I mean, look at that craftsmanship!”

The door was incredibly well made, from the looks of it. It was cherry oak, made from beautifully stained tiny planks, with bronze hinges and a handle polished with such perfection that the entire break room reflected like a mirror. A tiny knocker hung in the middle of the door, begging for someone to give it a brief knock.

“Use the knocker thingy,” Phil said, pointing at it with his coffee mug.

I grabbed the tiny knocker and gave it a gentle swing. It hit the door with a loud thud. The sound echoed behind the wall, growing in intensity with each echo before it abruptly stopped.

“Huh, that was weird,” I said.

Phil stood there, shaking his head.

“Yeah. I don’t like this at all.” He sipped his coffee sludge. “Something ain’t right about that door.”

My curiosity piqued, though. I had to know what was on the other side. It felt like a hand had reached into my chest and was pulling me towards this door. My curiosity had taken on a life of its own and compelled me to find out what lay beyond this tiny, odd door.

I reached out and grasped the knob with my thumb and index finger.

“Woah, man,” Phil said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m opening it,” I said. I twisted the knob and heard a click as the latch slid open. “See? It works fine. May as well try it.”

Phil took a few steps back, scurrying with his tar-like coffee to the other side of the break room.

“Alright, man, just be careful.” He placed himself so that a table was ‌between him and the tiny, odd door.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and pulled open the door. I waited a moment, then ‌opened my eyes, daring to peek into the doorway. My eyes went wide at the view inside.

“Would you look at that?”

The words had barely escaped my lips just moments before the universe blinked out of existence.

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