March 3 – March 16
In 2025, Microzine will share various door prompts, and it’s up to you to decide what (or who) is behind them. Perhaps a beast waiting for you? A family having a squabble? Lovers taking advantage of being alone? A knight suiting up for his next battle? An old woman waiting for a visit…from you…? A room of missing treasure finally discovered?
The possibilities of what, or who, one might find behind a closed door are endless. Step right up. Knock and enter. If you dare.
THE CHALLENGE
Using the above image as a prompt, write a story selecting one of the following stipulations:
Must be exactly 6-words, 25-words, 50-words, or 100-words in length. Title is never counted towards word count OR
a StoryStack that follows the rules outlined here:
NOTE: Put your story title & word count in brackets first, followed by your story.
Ex. [Story Title, 100]
An added element to this challenge is the deadline. Any story put in the comments AFTER the date listed below will not be considered for digital/print issues.
DEADLINE: March 16, 2025
DIGITAL/PRINT ISSUE OPPORTUNITY
Only stories shared in the comments section will be considered for digital and print issues. Stories only shared in Substack Notes will not be considered. If you put your story up on your own publication it will not disqualify it from consideration.
Good luck!
[Eternity With One For Company, 100]
Death’s hand presented the dilapidated door. “Choose one person. If they choose you too, you will spend eternity with them and only them. Otherwise, you will fade into oblivion.”
“Why,” you gasped. “Who made it this way?”
Death shrugged. “If there is anyone responsible for this, then they remain hidden.”
“There’s so many people.”
“Then your life was filled with love.”
Best friends, siblings, and your other half raced through your mind. Each had their flaws, but they were in your life for a reason. Who did you want? Who wanted you?
You opened the door to find your afterlife.
[SANCTUARY, 50 words]
It’s a dark room with shuttered doors, where the judgement of strangers is refused entry. This is the quiet space he’s needed his whole life, a place to rest, free from suspicion. His sins were absolved a long time ago, his conscience clear. Leave him alone now, let him be.
(Board Up 6 words)
Bored. Nailed. Hostage situation. Mission impossible.
(A Story Stack: THE SEPARATION METHOD 181 words)
(Shuttered Doors 6)
Shuttered doors quietly shelter the unknown
(Oh, The Humanity! 25)
The boarded up doors quietly bided their time, waiting for the signal to open. On certain occasions they swallowed their lack of humanity with grace.
(The Missing Element 50)
10 year old Pedro wandered down the alley in search of his cat. She had escaped many times only to be found sitting outside the boarded doors of the old seminary. As he approached, he could see the doors were open. A voice called out,
“Come in if you dare.”
(A Romantic Outing 100)
“I know a place where we can be alone,” said Tim softly.
“Where might that be?” asked his reluctant date who was tiring of Tim’s romantic overtones.
“You will have to trust me,” he replied as he began walking down the ancient alley. He stopped outside a dilapidated door that appeared to be boarded up.
“You expect me to go in there?” she asked incredulously. “This is nowhere near the romantic spot you keep promising.”
Tim pushed on the door. It opened, spilling golden light.
“Things are not always what they seem,” he said as they walked into the light.
Captured For Posterity
(175 Words: A Continuation Stack)
Old Doors Still Hold Deep Secrets (6)
The battered boards, nailed haphazardly, were meant to suggest disuse and possibly dissuade us from entering and looking around. (19)
Once inside it became evident that what one was seeing was something ethereal and meant for unprying eyes. Seeing is believing. This was a miracle.
The artistic expression was worthy of DaVinci. Every inch of space was coded with colour that delivered that sense of awe attributed to excellent work. (50)
The ropes directed us to move along to other rooms. All were brilliantly laid out demonstrating the organized thought processes that made it possible. Every room was tied together evocatively ensuring that we bought into the process. The lighting was perfect allowing us to see everything clearly.
The pacing was leisurely as we openly discussed the concepts presented, drawing gasps of surprise contained in each detail.
Near the exit there was a sign.
“All Trespassers will not leave here alive.”
The lights were extinguished. Unheralded sounds. Screams abounded. We slide onto a cold wall with grace, captured quickly for posterity. (100)
(Excited 6)
No exit fire escape other side.
[You Are Cordially Invited, 50]
Friends your whole life. Forty-five years like family, but you couldn’t visit him once. Not a call. Not a letter.
I sent it anyway.
His funeral came and went.
Next morning, a message:
“Wish I could’ve made it. Hope you’re good.”
I typed, deleted, rewrote.
Finally, I sent:
“Next time”
[On Assignment, 50]
In the winter of 2013, the Michigan Department of Corrections invited me to teach a class in creative writing.
“What’s the difference between fiction and reality?” one inmate asked.
I looked through the steel bars and across the yard, past the double fence coiled with concertina wire.
“Experience,” I said.
[ART OF HEALING, 25 words]
Dear heart,
Did you break again ?
Shut the doors. Padlock the entrance.
Nurse your wounds sweetheart,
I’ll be here waiting for you to beat again.
[CONFINES, 6]
He kept dreaming, the door untried.