The Blue Door

Eventually I would like to incorporate this into a book. This is based on a dream I had once. I also don't know what genre this would really fall under. I was torn between experimental and fantasy.

The Blue Door 

-J.H. Byrd

My bare feet touched down on the cobblestone that lay before me. The path was cold, yet it invigorated my feet and I could feel an energy soothing through them. Slowly and listlessly, I became accumulated with my surroundings. The lengths of green grass in the twilight fog that slowly enveloped the gentle plains were enveloped in a night which was cool and relaxing. Slowly, my feet picked up the path on their own accord.

I drifted with them, having no fear, for this place was soothing; it was trance inducing. Following the cobblestone path as a short stone wall slowly rose from the ground, I looked to the left of the path that stretched out before me and saw in the twilight only green lengths of grass that slowly faded into the shades of fog. The fog was immense and surrounded the land, wherever this was.

      In front was difficult to see far for the immense fog clouding my view. My feet moved almost on their own motives, drifting along, slowly dancing among the clouds. A murmur fell upon me, so faint I could not make its distinction.

     My feet continued on. As the murmur slowly grew, I felt the sound gently caress my being and develop into the gentle whisper of a river. I now could make out its banks and borders as it slowly approached my path.

    I was continued on, my eyes catching sight of a glowing aura lost in the fog. Like a firefly, enticed and drawn, my journey pressed on. Approaching the source of light, I could slowly distinguish it into the shape of an orb, beckoning me on with its silent call; a lighthouse for those floating in the void.

 

    It was not until I came to be near the radiating light, mesmerized by the glow, that I discovered what it was. A sheer black pole rose from the ground and spread an arm out clutching the light. It was an antique lamp post, one that you would see in the old streets of London. I stood under its radiance marveling at how it came to be on this path.

    "It is the beacon," a voice came out to me from the fog; gentle, sweet and soothing.

    I turned to discover the source of such an angelic voice. Long golden brown hair fell down upon heavenly shoulders. Her skin soft as if she had consumed the moon and it was radiating within her. She wore a most wonderful robe whose color I could not make out for every time I did it changed hues, from colors I knew to those I did not.

    I said nothing, staring on, a mere speck among a star. She spoke to me again.

    "It is the light the beacon to all dreamers. It has called to you."

    "Why to me?" my own voice seemed out of place amongst such graceful tones.

    "You shall see."

    In those words I found great solace and comfort knowing I would know no harm in her presence. She extended a hand to me, even her simplest gesture struck me with utmost awe.

    "Walk with me for a while."

    I took her hand and felt her grace run up my arm into my own body. We walked on the cobblestone path still cool from the night's breath. She led me over the wall and to the bank of the river. She motioned to it and the fog lifted enough to see the moons reflection upon the surface.

     "When disturbed, the reflection will become lost and distorted; but allowed to settle, the reflection is a mirror image of the moon. Allowed to settle, even the muddiest water will become clear overtime."

     She looked to me and saw that I understood in my reflective state as I stared over the whispering waters.

    Finally I spoke again, "What is this place that I have come to find?"

    "This is the Dreamer's Landscape. And it has found you."

    "But why am I here?"

     "A great peril has awoken in the dimension that this portal leads to. This land, the lamp post calls forth only those who are able. But be patient, all shall be made clear soon, for now we must continue walking for he is waiting for us."

    "Who?"

    "A great friend, the porter."

 

    We came upon the path again, this time a man stood waiting for us, his hood drawn above his head. His robe was brown and worn from many travels. Beneath the hood I could make out a strong face masked behind his beard. A strong voice came from underneath the hood.

    "Come," he spoke to my companion still leading me by hand, "he is waiting."

    He turned his gaze to me, "Welcome shadow rider, your presence brings much peace to this land."

    Answering my confusion he continued on, "This land feeds of dreamers like you and I and in return gives the same solace brought forth. But come brother we must continue."

    I walked with my companions until we came to a great bridge spanning over and across our path unto the other banks of the river. We continued under it, the river echoing majestically upon its stone walls. Half way down the wall I could see a figure. Sitting on the ground leaning upon the wall was a man, dressed in a suit and hat that was lowered to cover his own scruffy face. The suit was worn and tattered for he was an older man who had been wandering for some time. We stopped in front of this man and as his eyes raised to met us, I could see the wonderful hue that sparkled blue within.

     "Ah, welcome." he stood now and nodded his head to my companions who bowed slightly in respect. "The time as come my friend to step over the bounds."

    "I don't understand though, why am I here."

    "Some questions must only be answered upon the journey. Know this, the choice is before you to save this land. Turn away now and you shall not know what greatness lie upon that path, what wonders and mysteries waiting to be unlocked. Take it and you shall know and become one with this land."

    He paused and I contemplated the words he spoke to me. I can not explain it but suddenly I was awakened and I understood my task. As I looked back at the man, there was a door behind him set in the stone. He stepped aside and I could fully see the blue door. In its center was a golden handle and towards its top were five holes shaped like stars that emanated a pure white light.

    The old man spoke again, "This is the door, the portal, and I its keeper. Step beyond its breadth and know your own worth." He stared intently at me. "Will you take up this path?"

    I looked at my companions and found warmth and appreciation in their gazes and back at the old man. Something in his eye told me that he knew I would not fail in whatever quest lay beyond that door. I found confidence in his gaze.

     "I will."

    The old man smiled, "Very well," he opened the door for me and I was consumed by a warming light, "enter and meet your destiny, for what lie beyond this door is unlike anything you have ever seen."

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I do not read fantasy, so maybe I don't understand what's the norm for this genre. But for me, this felt too dreamy & nebulous. You do a great job of describing some kind of journey using ephemeral descriptions of stuff along the way, but nothing seems to gel into a memorable storyline for me. A simple lamp post seems to be described as a big deal, but I'm not convinced why this is, but it doesn't matter becuz it doesn't tie back into the story later anyway.

This is super creative thinking & expression: "She wore a most wonderful robe whose color I could not make out for every time I did it changed hues, from colors I knew to those I did not."

Many instances of creatively written imagery is all thru your story, but most of it ends up not being pulled together into a cohesive storyline for me. After all this walking & observing, almost nothing actually HAPPENS in this story. I guess I'm more into a concrete storyline that compels the reader along, rather than a floaty gauzy reading experience that just kinda sprawls along (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie