"There was a
knock at the door." How could she
incorporate that sentence into a short story of 250 words?
She relaxed in the soapy water and considered possible scenarios. “Maybe it could be about Jesus knocking at
the door. The women are probably fed up with my “humorous” stories and would
appreciate something with a spiritual bent.”
She immersed herself deeper in the bubbles. “Maybe a delivery man comes
to the wrong house and an argument ensues?
No. A policeman announcing they
found a body in the neighbours’ backyard? I don’t like any of those.” Closing her eyes she breathed deeply. “OH, I
know…there was a nuclear holocaust and the protagonist is the last person on
earth…and there’s a knock at the door.
Spooky and possibly funny. I like
that one!”
She bolted
upright. Someone was knocking at the
door! “Weird. Thinking about a story using ‘there was a
knock at the door’ and then there’s a knock at the door!” Another knock. “Get lost!” she muttered, gritting her teeth,
“I’m not answering.” Settling back in
the tub, she sighed deeply and tried to relax again. The knocking began again, this time in
earnest. “I refuse to answer! Go away,” she sputtered. They were pounding now. “What the heck!”
She clambered out of the tub. Infuriated! Water dripping everywhere she flung a bath
towel around herself and stormed down the stairs. “They are going to get a
piece of my mind!”
She threw
open the door.
“WHAT THE HECK DO YOU WANT,” she shouted at the three people standing on her doorstep.
“WHAT THE HECK DO YOU WANT,” she shouted at the three people standing on her doorstep.
