I’ve tried to open the door so many times. I had it once, squeaking open on rusty hinges, but then it slammed shut. I was able to glimpse bright blue, and a feeling of utter peace wafted out around me like a soft breeze. I wanted in there. I knocked. Begged. Kicked and screamed. Exhausted, I finally dropped down and sat leaning against the door.
I couldn’t leave. I was afraid I wouldn’t find it again, that I wouldn’t remember the way back. I had some lifesavers, but in stories, the bread crumb trail never works.
Sitting there and feeling sorry for myself, I ate a lifesaver, and then chomped down the entire roll. I heard a faint whistle, like a train, and it got louder until I covered my ears. I felt the vibration of a train on tracks under me and barely managed to bail off as the train came screaming down the tracks right where I’d been sitting. The door was gone.