Contributor: Erik Storey
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Mike stumbled down the dim corridor. He couldn't remember where he had been. He knew he was headed somewhere, but couldn't recall where. The distant lights above him were dim, making it hard to see his shuffling feet as he watched himself put one in front of the other. He abruptly fell when his forehead smacked into something solid. Somehow he managed to get to his feet and stared in awe at the shimmering portal before him. It glittered and waved, weaved and shined. It seemed to transform every time he looked at it from a different angle. There was a white aura surrounding it, and around that was nothing but darkness. While standing on his left foot, it seemed to be round, and started to split into two, but when he shifted his weight to his right, it became a rectangle and, amazingly, solid. But if he leaned back and closed the other eye, it changed again into a glowing yellow sliver that was wide, then smaller, and then suddenly disappeared. When both eyes were open it came back. Now it was brown, a rectangle, and had something glowing in the center, near the side. Mike tentatively stepped up and touched the glowing thing. The portal moved away from him slightly and that yellow sliver of light came back. He wanted that light. It summoned up some deep need in him, something just remembered. Stepping away, Mike thought that somewhere, at sometime he had seen something like this, but it seemed so fantastic that it must have been in a dream. Suddenly the portal vanished and two human shaped, ghostly phantoms crept past him. He shuddered in terror and disbelief, as the portal rematerialized. Mike decided to steel himself and enter through this gateway to nightmares. He ached for the light. He took three deep breaths, sighed, rocked back and forth, then pushed on the portal with both arms. It moved quickly, and Mike flew through, stumbling up to the wooden bar. The last thing he heard before the darkness took him was the bartender asking him, “What'll ya have buddy?”
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Erik spends most of his time outside. If he has to be cooped up, he spends it reading and writing. He lives in Colorado with his wife, daughter and three dogs in a very small house.
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Mike stumbled down the dim corridor. He couldn't remember where he had been. He knew he was headed somewhere, but couldn't recall where. The distant lights above him were dim, making it hard to see his shuffling feet as he watched himself put one in front of the other. He abruptly fell when his forehead smacked into something solid. Somehow he managed to get to his feet and stared in awe at the shimmering portal before him. It glittered and waved, weaved and shined. It seemed to transform every time he looked at it from a different angle. There was a white aura surrounding it, and around that was nothing but darkness. While standing on his left foot, it seemed to be round, and started to split into two, but when he shifted his weight to his right, it became a rectangle and, amazingly, solid. But if he leaned back and closed the other eye, it changed again into a glowing yellow sliver that was wide, then smaller, and then suddenly disappeared. When both eyes were open it came back. Now it was brown, a rectangle, and had something glowing in the center, near the side. Mike tentatively stepped up and touched the glowing thing. The portal moved away from him slightly and that yellow sliver of light came back. He wanted that light. It summoned up some deep need in him, something just remembered. Stepping away, Mike thought that somewhere, at sometime he had seen something like this, but it seemed so fantastic that it must have been in a dream. Suddenly the portal vanished and two human shaped, ghostly phantoms crept past him. He shuddered in terror and disbelief, as the portal rematerialized. Mike decided to steel himself and enter through this gateway to nightmares. He ached for the light. He took three deep breaths, sighed, rocked back and forth, then pushed on the portal with both arms. It moved quickly, and Mike flew through, stumbling up to the wooden bar. The last thing he heard before the darkness took him was the bartender asking him, “What'll ya have buddy?”
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Erik spends most of his time outside. If he has to be cooped up, he spends it reading and writing. He lives in Colorado with his wife, daughter and three dogs in a very small house.
Author:
Erik Storey
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