This, one could say, is a fairly ordinary door. It’s old, certainly, the stone building it belongs to probably built a hundred years ago or more. Other than that, it’s fairly standard, with its carved panels and battered black painted finish. A door like many others around the world.
But look a little closer, and you’ll see what it was that drew my attention…
The handle is straight from a dark fairy tale, a woman’s hand holding an apple. Is it the wicked queen, tempting unwary visitors to their fate, or Snow White herself, frozen by cold poison for eternity, her glass casket replaced by wood and stone, waiting for her prince to open the door?
Or, is it just a really neat door handle?
This is my entry to this week’s Thursday Doors Challenge, courtesy of Norm 2.0. For more doors, or to add one of your own, visit Norm’s site and click the link.
It’s another #writephoto challenge from Sue Vincent, and this week our prompt is this evocative photo of sunset over the ocean. There seemed to be something melancholy about the image – perhaps it’s the combination of the obelisk and the setting sun. This is the poem that came to me:
I’ve been feeling a bit empty, words-wise, these last couple of days. It’s always how I feel when I finish a book, even if I have other ideas on the go. I welcome the feeling though, for it’s how I can tell that I’ve completed the story.
I finished book three, Hills and Valleys, and sent it off to the editor today. And now I’m waiting. It’s like the old Zen philosophy, that the cup needs to be emptied before it can be filled. Now that I have emptied my cup of one story, I’ll wait for the Muses to decide when it will be refilled.
I’ve already written book four, by the way. Books five and six are well underway. I have another book, unrelated, which is about 95% finished, plus a few other ideas banging around in my mind. I don’t think this is special or anything – I think it’s just how writing works.
But for now my cup of words is empty, other than these few for my blog post. And I’m content. For I know it will fill again – with what, remains to be seen.