The Prison Door

This was a writing assignment for school, but I actually like how it turned out. We had to describe an entrance in three paragraphs. This is just a short thing to show I'm still alive. I know there's no real plot, but please enjoy.


A lone woman stood, pale, covered in sweat and grime, with a vacant expression in her gray eyes as they took in her surroundings, in front of a small metal shed, the door of which had just slammed loudly shut.

It was a harmless-looking shed, with rust creeping up the sides, with little traffic, if any, before the woman. Why someone would place a shed here was questionable- it was surrounded for miles on all sides by a field of wheat. It would be impossible for anyone, without deliberate directions, stumble upon it mistakenly. A slight breeze picked up, and the ocean of gold swayed gently. The woman, previously mesmerised by this display, whipped around suddenly- the heavy door of the shed had flown open again.

With a loud thunk, the metal object had been tossed out by an unseen force, deposited just feet away from the woman. Before she could react, the door had slammed shut, and they were left alone, the wheat continuing its light sway. The woman emitted a soft sigh upon seeing it, as if recognising an old friend. It was a large, heavy cube, about as tall as her mid-thigh, showing signs of abuse, being charred, scratched, and burnt. Even so, the pink heart in the center of each side was intact, and it still seemed to emit a soft, welcoming glow. The woman hesitated before approaching, gently stroking its top, then finally sitting down on it, relaxing for the first time. She hummed the remnants of a song that still remained in her memory, but soon that, too, was left behind.