Imagine your best dream. Something that made you smile both in life, and in your dream state. Now, put it behind a door.
Imagine your worst dream. Something that had you in a sweat, and when you awoke, any time of the night you had to turn the light on, or splash your face to make sure it was a dream. Put it behind another door and stand it next to the first.
Now imagine a third door. A mystery if you will. It could be good and amazing, or it could be worse than the nightmare. But you don’t know. And it stands in between the good dream and bad dream.
You stand in a dark room in your pjs and bare feet, the cool concrete sending shivers up through your feet and into your legs, up through your stomach and chest and freezing your heart. In the distance you can hear a drip, that drops to join a puddle that might stand at a great depth and distant. In front of you stand the three doors, but they’re identical and you guess they have been shuffled around, so the order you put them, the thing you’d remembered, won’t do you any good now.
A voice bellows all around you.
‘Choose.’ You jump and look around. Where did it come from?
‘What if I can’t?’ It’s all you can muster, while you try to stop your heart from jumping out of your chest and running away.
‘You must.’ I must?
WHICH DO YOU CHOOSE?
Left, middle or right?