Mini Story, Photo Prompt

The Last Door

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Written for Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative
Challenge #070. I chose Pic #1.

© Crispina Kemp

The alley had grown narrower over many decades, buildings leaning together like gossiping neighbors. Geeta walked the moss-slicked path every day, past Chamthai’s cheerful sign, past the red-shuttered windows, toward the ancient church door at the end.

Today, she finally knocked.

The wood swung inward without a sound, revealing not a chapel but a garden suspended in eternal spring. An old woman tending roses looked up, unsurprised.

“Took you long enough,” she smiled. “Your grandmother said you’d find your way eventually.”

Geeta stepped through and the door closed behind her, vanishing into ivy.

NAR©2026

This is “Goin’ Home” by Dan Auerbach

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #070

All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy’s Notes 🖊️🎶 and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.



22 thoughts on “The Last Door”

      1. I just went to the grocery store, and I wanted to get some Irish Spring soap with Aloe, but the lady stacking the shelves didn’t like the way I pronounced aloe, so she corrected me with the way she pronounces it. I told her, “You say aloe and I say goodbye” and that made her laugh.

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  4. In the concrete jungle that was Newark NJ, my grandparents’ home was separated from my great grandmother’s home by a narrow alley way. Once you walked through that, my grandfather had this huge arbor where he grew all kinds of grapes and peaches. Walking by, you didn’t have a clue. That is what this story reminded me of.

    ‘buildings leaning together like gossiping neighbors’–such a fabulous line, Nancy.

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  6. A lovely vision of what is waiting for us behind the final door, …

    Before the World Was Made LyricsIf I make the lashes dark and the eyes more bright
    And the lips more scarlet or ask if all be right
    From mirror after mirror, no vanity’s displayed
    I’m looking for the face I had before the world was made
    Yes, I’m looking for the face I had before the world was made

    What if I look upon a man as though on my beloved?
    And my blood be cold the while and my heart unmoved?
    Why should he think me cruel or that he is betrayed?
    I’d have him love the thing that was before the world was made
    Oh, I’d have him love the thing that was before the world was made
    Yes, I’d have him love the thing that was before the world was made

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