Reflections - a Short Fiction Anthology

The Door

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Vivianne,

I know we didn't talk much. I had heard of the rumours that you were very interested in unusual things. Esoteric and paranormal things. I regret not reaching out to you earlier, I think we could've been friends. In this email, I've written about an encounter with something impossible. When you read this, I'm probably gone. Thanks for hearing me out.

The first time I saw it was about half a year ago. It was the middle of July, and at that time we were going through one of the worst heat waves in years. Outside, the atmosphere was damp and oppressive. I'm fine with summer and when it gets hot, but the moisture in the air made it feel as if we were being smothered.

My apartment block was built fairly recently, about five or six years ago, and its hallways and communal areas were all air conditioned. I should note that on the ground floor of the building there was a small cafe kind-of-thing. Too small to be a proper restaurant but larger than a normal cafe. It was wonderfully cool, and often empty, since who wants to stay inside during the summer. Our apartments, on the other hand, were like furnaces.

That day I had spent a couple of hours in the morning revising course material for an upcoming exam. The heat in my tiny student accommodation made it difficult to think, let alone study, so I gathered some books and my laptop, got dressed, and decided to go downstairs. I was feeling lazy and the hallway was a lot cooler, so I decided to use the elevator. I walked in, and there was a mirror there, on the opposite wall of the cabin. I looked awful. My skin was pale and the bags underneath my eyes made me look almost grotesquely skeletal. Sleepless and often foodless days and nights will do that to you. I must confess, I was struggling with my mental health and it showed.

As I was scrutinising myself in the mirror, something flashed behind me. I managed to catch a small glimpse as the elevator doors closed behind me. It was a man. He was probably around his late 20s or early 30s. I noticed that he was wearing a jacket and I thought it was odd, because it was unbelievably hot. I couldn't see if he was going somewhere. I think he was just standing in the doorway of one of the apartments. It wasn't until later that I realised that he'd been observing me, since the very beginning.

Downstairs, the cafeteria was almost empty. A few students sat near the centre of the area, but luckily they weren't being too loud or obnoxious. I got a coffee and a glass of water and went to sit at the one table which wasn't being completely fried by the midday sun. I set up my laptop and my books, and started revising.

A few hours passed. There were more notes and slides and texts to go through, but I figured it was a good idea to take a break and get a refill on my coffee. I closed my laptop and put down my notes, when suddenly, there was a loud crashing noise that came from the kitchen area behind the counter. I jumped, glancing at the source of the sound.

It was at that point that I saw the door for the first time. At first, I thought it was a door to a storage room, maybe a cleaning cupboard, but when I examined it more thoroughly, I noticed that there was something strange about it, about the way it looked. It was made out of grey wood, and it didn't have any obvious patterns or markings. What I mean to say is that it was completely mundane. Then I saw that the door had a doorbell and a letterbox. I realised that it was an apartment door, identical to the ones in the building. But why was there one here? It made no logical sense, and the longer I looked at it, the more the whole thing seemed to be completely incongruent with reality. The door was right next to the kitchen entrance, and on its other side the wall of the room extended towards me, in an L-shape. I realised that the door didn't even have any space to open at all: its hinges were next to the wall to the right.