Hall of Infinite Doors
First John thought of how the next day he was supposed to have been back home and how he had a meeting of importance. He had already bumped the appointment for his day off, but if he did not show up, he might be unaccepted for the case. He gave himself a mental slap for thinking about work. He'd think about work when he got back to it. In the meanwhile he had to enjoy this time he had set aside for himself.
The question his mind was really concerned about forced itself to be asked, "So what's in the basement I can't see?" He knew he didn't want to go down there. These people were very nice to him, and he had to respect them and their rules. But the farmer was so nice. "Why was he so cold when he told me not to go into the basement?" He'd never know, he supposed.
The question plagued his mind as he continued to examine the spots on the ceiling. He tried to wonder what caused the spots in the ceiling, but it was clear they were the result of a recent heavy downpour. He retold the stories the family had told him earlier at dinner, trying to stop thinking about the basement. He knew as long as he worried about the basement, he wouldn't get any sleep, and because he'd be visiting his old home tomorrow and then would have long ride back, he'd need all the sleep he could get.
John was actually very tired. From the shoveling and milking, his body was about to collapse. He closed his eyes, and darkness surrounded him. He took a deep breath, and then heard the farmer say in him mind, Do not go in our basement." Chills rode down John's body again. He opened his eyes and sat up.
He sat in this position for a few minutes until he calmed down. When laid back down, he stared at the spots on the ceiling again, amusing himself by drawing pictures between the dots. He drew stairs and laughed at himself for being so immature. He took another deep breath, and decided he'd do it.
He would go down cellar, see whatever it was the farmer didn't want him to see, and then come back up, go to bed and get some rest. The family would never even know he had been down there.
The question his mind was really concerned about forced itself to be asked, "So what's in the basement I can't see?" He knew he didn't want to go down there. These people were very nice to him, and he had to respect them and their rules. But the farmer was so nice. "Why was he so cold when he told me not to go into the basement?" He'd never know, he supposed.
The question plagued his mind as he continued to examine the spots on the ceiling. He tried to wonder what caused the spots in the ceiling, but it was clear they were the result of a recent heavy downpour. He retold the stories the family had told him earlier at dinner, trying to stop thinking about the basement. He knew as long as he worried about the basement, he wouldn't get any sleep, and because he'd be visiting his old home tomorrow and then would have long ride back, he'd need all the sleep he could get.
John was actually very tired. From the shoveling and milking, his body was about to collapse. He closed his eyes, and darkness surrounded him. He took a deep breath, and then heard the farmer say in him mind, Do not go in our basement." Chills rode down John's body again. He opened his eyes and sat up.
He sat in this position for a few minutes until he calmed down. When laid back down, he stared at the spots on the ceiling again, amusing himself by drawing pictures between the dots. He drew stairs and laughed at himself for being so immature. He took another deep breath, and decided he'd do it.
He would go down cellar, see whatever it was the farmer didn't want him to see, and then come back up, go to bed and get some rest. The family would never even know he had been down there.