Keys

[Teresa]

When she opened her eyes Bree found a tarnished key on her pillow which asked in an ancient voice, "What is ease?"  The key stayed in her apron pocket as she vacuumed the floor of her soulful house and admired the things she made or worked for, but the question still pulsed as the vacuum dug patterns of castle towers in the carpet. 

 

She stopped vacuuming, walked to the mailbox and slid a letter she couldn't remember writing into the hinged underbite.  She saw a keyhole where there shouldn't be one and curious, inserted the tarnished key which made a disturbing hissssss.  A door opened and out poured ghostly fog and a woman in a long dress of neon green sequins whose smiled flashed in blinding bursts; she silently handed Bree another key, this one gold which spoke in a little girl's peeling voice, "What is ease?"  The neon woman shattered into bits of glitter and green while Bree, unable to move, stared at the gold key for hours, afraid of the question which now lay dead or asleep in a doorway. 

 

Confused, Bree stumbled to a house where she thought she lived but she couldn't be sure until her tarnished key would not open the lock; she inserted the gold key which turned with a smooth and eerie snick.  The heavy door opened to someone else's house, rooms of things she did not know which spoke to her in grating tinny voices, the rich leather sofas and marble-based lamps and gold-framed mirrors she did not choose or make - We own you - in a life she did not build.

 

"...a life oriented to leisure is in the end a life oriented to death - the greatest leisure of all."

Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

 

 

[Kristine_ES]

not sure i've read everything you've ever written, but this was an excellent voice from you.

the story is fairy but right now.  can't help but echo what the others have said earlier. 

[Rob Marshall]

I hesitate to comment Teresa! Too cut a long story short (and it is a long story) I am setting up the small, independent publishing house, SKINSTORM BOOKS. As a matter of courtesy I have sent an email to Rob Mc, but there so many writers here who deserve world-wide recognition. I intend to publish a list of books for unpublished authors under an eclectic range of titles i.e SONGS THAT SAVED YOUR LIFE.  I got to meet the tax man tomorrow, but when they are  writers like Terea Cortez and her ilk I am so positive. Please feel free to contribute when I place ideas on the Six Sentences Forum - the sexy Rob Mc will hopefully endorse. My first book is actually about a non league football so that just goes to show how eclectic and diverse scribblings can be:

[e-mail] 

[Diana E. Backhouse]

I recognise the gold-framed mirrors that are not of your choosing and thoughts of a bird trapped in a gilded care come to mind.

[Teresa]

Thank you.  My sliver of Native American Indian wrote this, a somewhat SugarLanded version...;-)

[Edward V. Strand]

Eerie, and so right.

[Bill Floyd]

T tries the surrealist tip?  I dig it!  And I love the "hinged underbite."

[Angela]

"as the vacuum dug patterns of castle towers in the carpet" - This phrase is genius.  It tells the entire story; the whole message rests right there in it.

[Jeanette Cheezum]

Great 6 "T"  The neon woman shattered into bits of glitter and green. What an image.

 

 

[Edward Dean]

What they said; in spades!

But you know T, could you once -in-awhile do a clunker just to make me feel better about my own stuff:)

[Sandra Davies]

Yet another facet to your writing talent.    So many sparklngly original phrases of which "a little girl's peeling voice" is but one example.   Wow!