~This is a thread dedicated to short stories.~

The rules are simple:
-your story cannot exceed the word limit of one post
-although you can write a longer story as a series of short stories
-There is a 3 day cool-down between each post.

The template for you post is as follows:

- Introduce your character taking them from their world
- Tell your story
- Return your character to their respective world

If you are continuing a previous story then you introduction can be much shorter.

If you dont follow this template then you post will be deleted.

As for content, its unlimited, you can write about anything. But do keep in mind that this is going to be read by anyone and everyone. If you are dealing with sensitive material please include a disclaimer.

Where will i travel?
Wander the worlds
Watch the time dance
Wonder at all that is

Look
Listen
Labour to remember

So come
Step through my door

Tell me your tale

The door connected, Leytan sat back in his leather chair marveling at the colour of the port in his glass as it danced in the firelight. All he had to do now was wait, soon someone would walk through his portal and share their stories.

Smoothing back a wisp of his white hair he focused his ever shifting eyes on the fire. Watching as it danced on logs it never managed to consume. His black fingernails accented the blood red port he sipped at, yet another thing that was never fully consumed in his place.

Books lined the walls, their myriad of titles glittering in the light, Leather sofas strewn throughout the room cast pools of darkness on the stone floor. Black flecked with silver the stone that make his shelter reminded Leytan of the infinity of the stars.

Suddenly startled out of his reprieve his rainbow eyes flicked to the portal. Someone was comming.

Enter through the door is a bent over old man. He was young once with a straight back and proud face. He was beautiful once but now his face is old and wrinkled. He was strong once but down his body is bowed over and weak. He was quick of thought and nibble of tongue once. But now he thinks a lot more and is slow to speak. He is wiser now though.

The man shuffles on in. He does not speak his name or anything else he just launches straight into his story. He doesn't know where he is or why he is. He just knows that its time to tell the story.


The scarlet umbrella
Down the street tap step, step tap step, step tap. A woman in black walks she is wearing a long cloak that buttons up all the way to the collar and the buttons are jet-black shine like eyes in the dusk light. In the woman hand is a tall slender umbrella with a nice wooden handle the sort that doesn’t get too cold in winter. The woman takes two steps to one swing and landing of the umbrella, the umbrella is a smarting red colour that has been named scarlet. The man who lights the lamps at night stares at the woman who walks so straight-backed and slender much like the main of the umbrella. A wind stirs her coat and raises the bottom out behind her showing that only down to the waist are the buttons done up.
The wind howls and all on the grey dab street bend to keep going in the chilly wind not the woman she is as straight backed and slender as ever.

People look at her like she is alien. She is in a way she doesn’t show the wind is chilly and hard nor how freezing cold it is this dusk in winter. Tap step, step tap step, step, she walks on and on so tall and graceful. The wind blows hard again and her coats ends blow out like wings behind her as she walks into the wind. Suddenly her hair comes out of its ties and flies wildly behind her in a dance of the crazy. Her hair must be about one and a half meters long, it is raven black and is so silky and shiny it looks like a river. The woman walks on she doesn’t stop and curse at her hair as others do.
She just walks on and on tap step, step tap step, step.

The woman walks as the sun sinks lower and lower the lamplighters are almost finished lighting all the towns’ lamps. On and on she walks until the sun is right in front of her all that is visible is a shadow of her. The wind blows and tugs at her coat and hair. She stops and stands there in the sun it seems like. The wind blows and tugs at her coat and hair she stands. The slowly brings the umbrella up into the suns light as it sinks then she opens the umbrella and holds it up in the air with a straight arm. Then another woman appears she stops and opens a black umbrella she is wearing all white
And another woman comes she is wearing all scarlet and she opens a white umbrella. Three seemingly identical women hold up the three umbrellas on straight arms.

The sun sinks lower but still the three are entirely in it as it glows orange. Then the wind blow the women have hair the same colour of their cloths but that is impossible but watching this anything seems possible. Raven hair, red hair and white hair not grey pure white like new snow. The wind howls impossibly loud and strong. The sun glows fiercely bright and the women stand stead and strong not even a twitch as the hold their umbrellas skywards. The air quivers like something mysterious and magical is about to happen. Then the three women stand and then rise slowly from the ground rising up and up as the sun sinks lower and lower. Up and up you look following them then just like that all that you can see are the stars and the moon rising above the distant horizon.

There on the moon what is that? It looks like three women sitting down and folding some umbrellas up and settling down. Why? And how? What is this all about why did the raven hair women rise from the sun to moon. Is she mother earth or a goddess if such things are maybe if you watch in the mornings you might see her and her friends walks down from the moon and follow the sun till they go home to the moon. Then again maybe not maybe you will never know and maybe the women don’t want to be watched. I guess somethings are just meant to stay mysteries.