| General Flash Fiction posted July 22, 2022 |
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Yes, it was ...
Quite an Experience
by Wendy G
The door slammed, echoing down the long hall.
We looked at each other. He was gone, and we were locked inside the building. Just the two of us.
"He'll be back," Phil reminded me.
"Yes, but only to …"
"We'll be fine," he assured me.
We started to explore, propped open the door to our "room", which was not the standard of a typical motel room, and went out into the courtyard.
Not your typical courtyard either. It was dark and drab, a few straggly weeds trying to poke through concrete and crooked brick pavers. The sun could hardly penetrate because of the high red-brick walls – just a patch in the far corner. There were a couple of grubby benches, but it was not inviting to sit there surrounded by … nothing but high walls.
"Let's explore the recreation area," Phil suggested. We did. It adjoined the courtyard, and was equally uninviting – a couple of leaning basketball hoops, some faded peeling paint marking the courts. My heart sank.
As twilight descended, we returned to our room and got out our books – but it was actually quite hard to read with only the dim light from a single globe, very high up.
The only other light was from two narrow glass panels, one leading into the hall, the other to the outside. The walls were as thick as my arm's length, making me feel more than a little claustrophobic.
A bell rang, resounding hollowly.
"That's the dinner bell!" said Phil, and we left for the dining room. There was no menu, but the food was adequate, filling but not fine dining. Let's just say we were glad to eat what was provided.
We were the only diners.
Upon finishing, we were escorted back to our room – and locked in.
"I'll be back at seven in the morning," he said. A minute later we heard the slam of the door at the far end of the hall again, and knew it was a self-locking door.
We were indeed prisoners now.
Thus began our adventure – what it was like to be inmates of a former jail, converted into "a tourist experience", and we were locked into Cell 26. We had paid well for this privilege.
The Door Slammed writing prompt entry
The door slammed, echoing down the long hall.
We looked at each other. He was gone, and we were locked inside the building. Just the two of us.
"He'll be back," Phil reminded me.
"Yes, but only to …"
"We'll be fine," he assured me.
We started to explore, propped open the door to our "room", which was not the standard of a typical motel room, and went out into the courtyard.
Not your typical courtyard either. It was dark and drab, a few straggly weeds trying to poke through concrete and crooked brick pavers. The sun could hardly penetrate because of the high red-brick walls – just a patch in the far corner. There were a couple of grubby benches, but it was not inviting to sit there surrounded by … nothing but high walls.
"Let's explore the recreation area," Phil suggested. We did. It adjoined the courtyard, and was equally uninviting – a couple of leaning basketball hoops, some faded peeling paint marking the courts. My heart sank.
As twilight descended, we returned to our room and got out our books – but it was actually quite hard to read with only the dim light from a single globe, very high up.
The only other light was from two narrow glass panels, one leading into the hall, the other to the outside. The walls were as thick as my arm's length, making me feel more than a little claustrophobic.
A bell rang, resounding hollowly.
"That's the dinner bell!" said Phil, and we left for the dining room. There was no menu, but the food was adequate, filling but not fine dining. Let's just say we were glad to eat what was provided.
We were the only diners.
Upon finishing, we were escorted back to our room – and locked in.
"I'll be back at seven in the morning," he said. A minute later we heard the slam of the door at the far end of the hall again, and knew it was a self-locking door.
We were indeed prisoners now.
Thus began our adventure – what it was like to be inmates of a former jail, converted into "a tourist experience", and we were locked into Cell 26. We had paid well for this privilege.
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Writing Prompt Write a story that starts with this sentence: The door slammed, echoing down the long hall. Don't add to the sentence. The catch is this must be flash fiction. So the story should be between 100 and 1,000 words. |
Based in parts on a real-life experience.
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