Photo Prompt: Door No. 1, Door No. 2
When He asks, Elizabeth chooses Room #2. There, she rides the bicycle hell-fire down steep hills, her red hair the color of mercurochrome covering wounds from violent spills milk at the feet of the teenage boy who stoops toward her awkward first kiss, heads tilt left or right before her, Elizabeth sees him with her former friend, a lover holds her amid sheets surrounding her naked body as his leg kicks in Elizabeth’s belly growing frantic with her screams, unimaginable pain for the son placing Elizabeth’s limp hand on her chest. When He asks again, Elizabeth chooses Room #2.
Photo credit: Lance Brewer
Choose Your Own Path:
Two doors were on the end of blank hallway, white with no meaning. As he approached towards the pivotal fork in his path, he left everything behind entrapped by white, bland walls. Each door led to it’s own respective path. Would he choose the red or blue door? The painful sense of reality with in the red door or the blissful ignorance of illusion in the blue door were options exposed to him… The big gaping hole of blank caving dimension were about to consume him in a flash. He took his peniumlate breath, turned a knob, and stepped inside.
So amazingly written in such a compressed form! The last sentence captured my attention. I read this a million times!