The Warmth of Summer

It seems that I once again have a slight obsession about doors, and stepping through them, which is why I couldn’t resist The Writer’s Mess weekly picture prompt below.  Follow a little girl who has to make a decision, does she stay, or does she go…


She could smell the sweet scent of summer flowers blowing in from the garden, and walked towards it.  The smell was intoxicating, with it’s promise of a rich summer day, so tempting when she got the smallest glimpse of green around the edge of the blue door before her.

She looked back towards the nursery where she had children to care for, even though it should have been her mother’s job, and then back towards the door.

It called for her, come, stay, be free, it said, and she wanted nothing more than to go to it, but she couldn’t…or could she.

The wind blew the door a little further open, and the bright blue skey beckoned to her.

Before she knew it, she was at the threshold, and the wail of her little brother, which should have held her pack, pushed her through, and even at ten she knew that she wanted more than she would get in this place.

The warmth of sun-kissed grass melted her toes, frozen from walking on stone in winter, and all at once she realized that this could not be happening, but when she turned to go back, there was no door, only a field that stretched as far as the eye could see.

She had made her choice, and it seemed, that she would have to live with it, here, in this land of eternal sunshine.