Writing Prompt I: Write about a door-real or imaginary
Photo by Jose Castillo on Unsplash
It’s 11:42 a.m., and I’ve been working in my cubicle since 7:30 a.m. when I realized I haven’t taken a restroom break. Working in this place forces me to ignore my body. Not right now though. The pain in my abdomen was screaming out to me for relief and I can’t ignore it. I put my desktop in sleep mode, put my sweater on and put my phone in my pocket.
As I pass each cubicle I notice the exhausted, docile, bored expressions of my coworkers. I lower my gaze and position my focus on getting to the restroom. I didn’t want to be reminded of what I was looking forward to after I pee. I think about quitting my job every moment of the day, even when I’m not here. Every day I look at myself in the mirror on my desktop and tell myself today is the day. Fuck it. I’m getting up and walking out of here without acknowledgment, explanation, and no idea where I am going. But today ain’t the day. I’ll be back in my cubicle in 10 minutes.
I approach the restroom and attempt to open the door but it’s locked. “That’s strange,” I think as I give it another push. I looked around to see if I can spot our custodian Mr. Johnson or if I could hear his keys. There’s no one around. The pain in my abdomen is growing and my bladder is getting weaker. I must not waste any more time. I see the stairway door and head to the second floor.
I open the door and enter the second floor hallway. I’ve never been up here before. I only walk from my car to my desk, to the bathroom (once. Maybe twice), back to my desk, to the break room, and then to my car.
There’s only one door on the second floor. Without assuming what’s behind it I open it. Maybe, hopefully, there’s a toilet in here.
I step into a white, bright room with no windows or furniture except a chair to my right. The back of the chair face me but I can see someone sitting in it.
“Hello?” I said. “I’m sorry to bother you but I’m looking for the restroom.”
Without turning around to look at me the person with a deep raspy voice responded, “Or are you looking for a way out?”
“Excuse me?” I stood still for a second waiting for their response but it didn’t come. “I’m just going to see myself out. Sorry to bother you”
I turned to walk out the door but it wouldn’t open. I begin to pull on it in panic. “Fuck! How do I get out of here?”
“The answer is within you,” said the person in the chair.
They stood up and faced me. It was a woman. She was dark-skinned with strikingly beautiful facial features. Her hair was shaved almost bald. She was tall and slender wearing a sheer body suit that made her almost appear to be naked. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as she glided towards me.
“I don’t understand. I work on the first floor. I was looking for a bathroom. Could you tell me where one is?”
I know she can’t tell me. Whoever she is she doesn’t belong here. I just didn’t know what else to say. Who is she? What is she doing here? And why can’t I leave this damn room?
“I’m here for you,” she said. She had read my mind!
“I can’t read your mind, but I can read your energy. You’re in search of something much deeper than a restroom. You’re in search of freedom”
“Yes, freedom to release my bladder” and now my bowels, I think to myself. “Can you please help me get out of this room? My supervisor will be looking for me soon.”
The black woman in the white room walks closer towards me and stopped close enough for me to notice the scent of patchouli coming from her body. It reminded me of the candles I used to make for my candle business two years before I started this job.
“I’ll open the door, but on one condition. You have to trust me to guide you.”
“Trust you? That won’t be necessary. I know my way to the first floor. But thank you” I laughed nervously and then I felt a warm trinkle of pee in the lining of my underwear. I turn around and pull on the door again. It’s still locked.
“Your work here is complete. You have something important waiting for you. Trust me.”
I close my eyes hoping I had fallen asleep at my desk and that this whole experience was a dream, but when I opened them she was still standing in front of me. This time even closer. For some reason, I didn’t feel afraid of her. Her presence gave me comfort. It felt…familiar. I feels like she knows my desires; like she’s heard my prayers. She wants me to trust her but for what exactly? It doesn’t matter. This is strange and this bright ass room is overstimulating. I just want to get back to my dimly lit cubicle in peace.
“Look, I don’t know who you are or who you think I am but I just want to take a piss and go back to my desk. Okay? So please, open this door for me.”
She fixed her gaze on me so deeply it felt like she was looking through me. She said nothing. I hear the door unlock and open behind me. I turn around to walk out but I just stood in the doorway.
All of a sudden I didn’t want to leave.
To be continued…
Or not.
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I am using writing prompts to help me improve my writing skills by practicing discipline and building confidence in developing my writing style and technique. My hope is that through my efforts I become more courageous and consistent in writing, creativity, sharing my work and building community with writers and creators.
©I’m No Miss Cleo
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