A new Home for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto. The first Challenge Behind the Door.

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto as a weekly challenge now it has become too difficult for Sue to continue.

K.L. said : “I am sure so many of you will already know this wonderful story but a little over five years ago, the wonderful Sue Vincent of Daily Echo (and The Silent Eye) posted the most intriguing image:”

Beyond the Door – Image by Sue Vincent

The convent was surrounded by an ancient stone wall. For centuries there was no entrance or exit gate or door. Novices when first admitted had to use an old wooden ladder and take a leap of faith to enter. Food supplies and correspondence was pullyed over the walls by means of bucket and rope.

The nuns lived a complentative life, growing what they could and tending their animals and themselves with the minimum of contact with outside world. The had a well, a library, a hospital and they were self-sufficient. They survived plagues, the Refermation, world wars and up until now any influence from the modern world.

Suddenly one day the sound of stones being chiseled could be heard in the nearby fields. The press and media were alerted and rushed to see and report on what was happening. Over night a beautiful round door appeared in the wall.

The door was opened once, briefly, by a tiny little Nun who looked escance at the gathered media. She shook her head, slammed the door shut and locked it. Things carried on just as before. After a while the media gave up on the story.

Of Knobs,Locks and Keys

telandhere.files.wordpress.com/

Northography have a new visual stimulus posted for your writing pleasure. Taken from http://senzingzen.com/  page. I wanted to take up the challenge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How many doors, how many floors must we flee down

Must we race down, pace down arms up and face down.

What lies behind the doors, the doorknobs many

strange knobs hob knobs, key holes of which views are there any?

 

How dark these walls so blue, the floor so black it reaches down to hell

The light at the end of the hall so red, red enough to hide the dead as well.

Is the floor a carpet or linoleum I do not know do you

As I run and rush my way along I cannot tell I don’t even care, it’s true,it’s true.

 

So enter here this last door with me and let your lust be free

In my hands I caress your key I love it’s cold feel, it awakens things in me.

So take back your long and lusty key and thrust it deep inside my lock , feel free.

I shall grab and turn your knob  I love the reaction it brings, it makes you sob.

So as we dance the dance of lock and key and hob of knob twist harder your key inside my lock so it  may throb.

 

Excitement gathers  us both up and busts forth all ousing out glorious and messy.

The lock the key, the knob all turning  busting growing flowing pressy!

OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

How many doors, how many floors must we flee down

Must we race down, pace down arms up and face down.

What lies behind the doors, the doorknobs many

strange knobs, hob knobs, key holes of which views are there any?

 

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