EMILY SAW A DOOR by Mel Rosenberg

EMILY SAW A DOOR

© Mel Rosenberg 2020

Word count = 597

Emily saw a door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Who is there?” asked the voice behind the door.

“It’s me, Emily. I’d very much like to come in.  May I?”

“Can’t you see?” said the voice. “This door is for people who are blue. Are you blue?”

“I’m not blue, but if I stay outside long enough I am sure to turn a little bluish,” answered Emily.

“This door is only for people who are already blue,” said the voice behind the door. “Why don’t you just go and find yourself another door?”

That’s what I’ll do, thought Emily.

That’s exactly what I’ll do.

Wow, thought Emily, almost out loud. This door is even more splendid than the door before.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Who is it?” asked the voice behind the door.

“It’s me, Emily. May I please come in?”

“That depends,” answered the voice. “This door is for people who speak very softly.”

“I would love to come inside, if I may,” whispered Emily.

“I can still hear you,” said the voice behind the door.

“I’m talking sooooooooo very quietly now.”

“Sorry, but now I can’t hear a word you’re saying. Goodbye,” said the voice.

The wind blew grey clouds across the afternoon sky. Emily stopped at the very next door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Who are you,” asked the voice behind the door.

“It’s me, Emily. What an interesting door you have. I would love to come in. May I?”

“This door is for people who tell lies. Are you good at telling lies?”

“Sure,” said Emily. “Cats can fly.”

“Of course they can,” said the voice. “I see a few now.”

Emily looked up. “I don’t see any flying cats.”

“Aha,” said the voice. “That was not a lie.”

“Please let me try again. I will do my best to tell only lies. Ferrets have freckles. Two plus two equals five. Cheese comes from trees. Please.”

“You don’t belong here,” said the voice. “Why don’t you go find another door?”

Emily walked on. Then she looked up. Way up.

Knock, knock, knock.

“How lovely that you’re here,” said the voice behind the door.

A door that wants me, thought Emily. Finally.

“Just open the door and come right in,” said the voice.

“You are so kind,” said Emily.  “But the door knob is just a little too high for me.”

“Oh,” said the voice behind the door.  “This door is only for people who are tall enough.”

“Please,” said Emily, “I’m almost tall enough. I promise to eat broccoli and spinach and grow and grow.”

“So why don’t you come back then? Goodbye,” said the voice.

Emily came to the very last door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hello,” said the voice behind the door. “It’s chilly outside. Perhaps you’d like to come in.”

“I would love to,” said Emily.

“Do you remember the secret password?” asked the voice behind the door.

“The secret password? It’s my very first time here,” said Emily.

“So sorry,” said the voice. “This door is for those who have been here before.”

“Is the password parsnip? Bartholemew? Sausage? If you tell me the password, I promise to remember it for next time. Please!”

“Goodbye,” said the voice behind the door.

Not blue enough, not tall enough, not quiet enough, and not a very good liar. And the last door is the silliest of all, thought Emily as she walked on in the cold. “Enough is enough,” she declared, this time quite out loud.

Emily pulled two crayons from her hair.

She drew a door.

She drew a doorknob.

And then she walked right in.

In Hebrew: