Stranded in a desert the last thing I would imagine for a mirage is a door. A simple red door smack in the middle of open space in a desert. Through life stealing heat, warm air that provides no relief, and scalding sand—at least an oasis could've appeared. But I get a red door. I would say there have been stranger things, but I think this takes the cake.

It opened with an eerie slowness that, even in the heat, made my hair stand on end. It opened to black backdrop and just a single, bright white light. This must be how I die today; in the desert, and that tunnel is a red door with the light welcoming me in its embrace.

Damn. Couldn't have just a few more hours, huh? Guess I should get this death thing over with then.

Touching the doorknob, I felt cool metal, in this weather is 'should' be hot. Or at least warm. Maybe death was just a cold thing? But I hope this isn't the way to Hell, I could swear I had repented any sin I ever committed a few sand dunes ago. I hesitantly lifted a hand to touched into the blackness, I didn't dare touch the white light—I'm stalling for time here. Keep my last few, somewhat precious moments (if you could call being in a desert 'precious moments'), until I jumped into the black oblivion.

Touching the blackness felt cool—and squishy. Squishy? I pulled my hand out and for sure, the blackness was like a goo sticking to my hand until it finally gave up trying to suck my hand in and let go. Strange, and curious at the same time. I looked into the white light, certainly, that had to be what every good Christian considered to be the way to Heaven, unless Hell was tricking me. I grimaced at the thought. But, death was death wasn't it? And I sure don't feel like spending another hour or two in this desert. I might as well take the plunge...

So long world, you sick, twisted planet of corruption. My time here wasn't very good anyway. Maybe death here was a mercy bestowed upon me by God. Gotta be positive about death, otherwise it will suck just as much as life had.

I took a breath, held it, then jumped into the black goo that was inside the red door. It wasn't so bad, at least it wasn't hot anymore. Maybe death had its perks...

I felt myself drifting towards the light, I welcomed it too. And just as i felt its comfortable warmth embrace me...

I was planted firmly on my feet again, but at least I was in a grassy field, and that was pretty much it. Did I really just die? I feel alive. Poking and prodding my body proved that fact.


"Questions like that can't be answered without the specific noun."


"Now that's not even truly a word to be used as one sentence."

I blinked a few times. Someone was... talking to me.

"I'm dead, right?"

"Far from it."

"Then what just happened?"

"You walked through the open door of opportunity."

"I did what now?"

I could feel the person rolling their eyes, then he appeared from behind me. I guess it hadn't occurred to me to turn around.

"The door of opportunity, you took the option of living well instead of living miserably."

"That's what I did? I thought I was hallucinating my death sequence!"

"Well did you want to die?"


"So you wanted to live. If you wanted to die then that dark foreboding tunnel would appear."

I stared at him blankly. I really must be dead, this whole thing was crazy.

"Look, do you know the phrase: 'Door's of opportunity will open, but it's your choice to walk through them.'?"


"This is it. Literally speaking."


"How so?"

"I wouldn't have pictured that metaphor to be so... literal."

"Most of life it tends to be full of metaphors."

"So, I choose a fulfilling life?"

He nodded once.

"You saw your chance to live better and took it."

"Now explain to me why I was in the desert in the first place."

"Ah, same thing."

"How so?"

"We are another's metaphor."


"Someone has just made the metaphor for the door's of opportunities. We are fulfilling its purpose."

Again I stared blankly.

"Come now, you haven't even heard of the power of words?"

"I know they can be hurtful."

"That too, but words create things as well."

I think I'm catching on now.

"Like stories..."


"So, we are fulfilling the role of someone's metaphor."

He nodded.

"What happens after the metaphor is over?"

"Well, nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?"

"Nothing happens afterwards."

"So we just sit around?"

"More like we just disappear..."

"Why do you know this and I don't?"

"Because I represent the speaker of the metaphor, therefore, I understand the meaning behind it and why it's there."

"Who do I represent, then?"

"The person the speaker is telling it too."

"Bloody—That means I'm the stupid person in this conversation!"

He gave a nod of sympathy. Of all the horrible things to happen!

"Worser things could happen."

"Like what?"

"Being told to just fall of a cliff and die for one. I've heard and seen that many times before, quite horrid actually..."

"Now your scaring me, what if the speaker says it!"

"He wont, he's done talking now."

"Oh. So, now what?"


"It can't be nothing!"

"Why can't it?"

"Because it can't! I'm here in a metaphorical existence now, I want there to be something!"

"If it's a metaphorical existence then technically, it's already nothing. The metaphor doesn't actually exist, just there to illustrate a meaning."

"Then why are we here!"

"To act it out!"

"It's a stupid existence then. I'm going back through that door, at least there was something there."

"You can't!"

"Why not?"

"I'll be lonely."


"Well it's true."

"You just don't want me to go through that door, then the metaphor would've proved nothing at all."


"That's not a word to be used properly in a sentence."

"You're mocking me."

"Possibly, but then this is a metaphor."

He sighed.

"Can't you just stay?"

"Why should I? The metaphor is over, I can make my own life now."


"The power of words remember?"

"Would that hold the same for us?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Well, we're not technically real..."

"Oh pish-posh, we're real enough to know how we want to live and what our purpose had been. Time to make a new purpose of ourselves."

I went towards the door, but he caught me and pulled me back.

"At least don't go back there!"

"Where shall I go then?"

"Stay here. Make that new life here."

I guess that is more promising then being in a desert.

"Alright then. First things first, that power of words thing--?"

"Oh, um, well, maybe you just say something with a meaning?"

"Okay. Um, Tree."

And there was a tree.



He tried it now. And there was a river. After discovering our new abilities, we spent hours making ourselves a better life. Metaphor or not, I was going to live how I wanted. The metaphor was over anyway, why stick with the ending? I made my choice, I choose a better life so now I'm going to make it a better life.

"Do you have a name?"

I later asked him. It hadn't occurred to me about my own name.

"I—No, I don't think I do."

"Then let's name ourselves."

"Should we?"

"We've made a new life for ourselves. Our purpose is over now, fulfilled, we can now do whatever we desire."

He thought hard for a minute then said,


"That's your name?"


"Okay then I'm... Juliet."



"So, Juliet, our new life shall be together?"

I smiled.

"Why not? I can't live alone now, can I?"

"Yes, I rather do hate being alone after my purpose is done with."

"I take it you've had purposes before?"

"Yes, they always ended and then I had nothing. I just waited around for my next purpose..."

"Well no more purposes now, make your own purpose. Isn't that what life is anyway? Finding your own purpose, not what someone else puts upon you?"

He agreed then looked out towards the beach we had created.

"I quite feel like some kind of... god."

"I think we may just be gods. Gods of our own, new worlds."

"Can we create people then?"

"Sure, I guess, but then they'd be looking to us for answers and what they should be doing... It'd defeat our original purpose, getting away from what others put on us."

"But we'd be putting it on them."

"It's still the same as our speaker having us perform a metaphor then giving us nothing more. If we do create people, let them have their own wills."

"An excellent idea."

"Our door of opportunity opened even wider."

He grinned.

"It has."

Author Comments: True, this is more a play than a story, but seeing as I was taking a unique approach, I hoped you, the reader, read more into the meaning of this piece than the writing of it. Being that I desire to be an author that makes a difference in how people will think while also entertaining them, this is me teaching and entertaining at the same time. Whatever grammar mistakes there are, tell me of them, but don't tell me how this story could've had a better approach to it. It was supposed to be obscure. In time, maybe, I will go back over this and perform that editing process, but now this is its raw form, and this is how I wanted it written. I hope you enjoyed.