short fiction · 2026-10-21

The Door That Never Closes

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The door that never closes stood in the center of the hallway, its surface rippling like liquid mercury under a sky that never set. Each step I took reverberated through walls composed of whispered echoes, and the air carried the faint scent of rain from a storm that had already ended. I reached out, expecting wood or stone, but instead found a mirror that reflected not my face but a thousand versions of myself, each paused in a moment of decision. The phrase ‘the door that never closes’ seemed to pulse with every heartbeat, a promise that some thresholds are meant to be crossed, never sealed, and that the journey beyond it is as infinite as the silence that surrounds it.