A Strange Short for #ThursdayDoors Writing Challenge — Blue Door

Thursday, May 19, 2022

It’s still Thursday where I am… although not for much longer.  I was not satisfied with my progress on “Dead of Winter” today, although there was a little.  So, after my usual day was finished, I wrote another response for the Thursday Doors writing challenge, hosted by Dan Antion.

This one is almost like a stream of consciousness. I used a song again, along with one of the door images that I offered up for writers to use as inspiration for the challenge.  I’ll wait and see if anyone figures out the song.

In Through the Blue Door

Image collage by Teagan
Image collage by Teagan

Warren walked through the blue door, with a confidant swagger.  He could have been walking onto a yacht, rather than into the party at my home, where friends came to watch the eclipse.

He smirked when he caught my eye.  Putting a finger to his hat, he winked with the one eye that was visible beneath the brim.  I knew how strategically he placed that hat.

“You were not invited,” I told him flatly when he approached.  “Shouldn’t you be at some fancy party.  I’m sure the Lear jet crowd is having a blast.”

Every woman in the room, and some of the men, turned to watch as he walked up to me.  Some had stopped dancing when they saw him.  Others looked up from drinks and conversations.  They all dreamed that they’d be his partner — for one kind of dance or another.  That was how it always was around Warren.

“I came to return this,” he said, removing my apricot scarf from his neck and handing it to me.

My hand remained at my side.  Grinning, he took both ends of the scarf and suddenly tossed it around me, then used it to pull me close to his chest.

“We made such a pretty pair.  We could again,” he murmured.

“Pretty?  Funny, you never told me that when we were together,” I remarked.

iStock image
iStock image

I noticed one of his twinkling eyes was on the mirror, as he watched himself.  He hadn’t paid any attention to my words.  Warren used to do the same thing when we made love.  He watched himself, with no real interest in me.  He often flirted outlandishly with his reflection.

When we got dressed up for parties, he went on at length about how great he looked.  Particularly the time I had made last minute alterations to a jacket for him, hand stitching it to accentuate his narrow waist and broad shoulders, sparing no time for my own cocktail dress.  He had wriggled his eyebrows at his reflection in the rearview mirror as he drove, nearly running off the road.  All without so much as a “Thank you” or a “You look nice” for me.

As he pulled me close, I heard a girl sigh enviously.  If she only knew…

“It’s starting,” another Ex, David exclaimed looking out the window at the sky.

David and I didn’t have much of a romance.  It happened too soon, and I was still unsteady after all the things Warren did.  Besides, David told several lies.  Big lies.  Particularly about being divorced from his first wife — he wasn’t.  However, we were still friends.  Sort of.  After the whoppers he told, I didn’t really even want to be friends.  He led his third wife outside, via the kitchen door, chattering happily.

I hoped those two made it work.  David had been through wife number one, wife number two, and then husband number one.  He seemed to have found himself when he found his third wife.  Looking at them made me smile.  Or it would have except for the vain man in front of me.

“You know you dream of being with me again,” Warren whispered into my ear. “You loved it.  Proof of that could be heard a block away.”

Shuddering, I remembered how he was when we were alone together.

“I was young and still quite naïve,” I replied, my face expressionless.  “Any dreams I had of you, of us, were just clouds in my coffee.”

Limitrofe at Pixabay
Limitrofe at Pixabay

I grew cold inside, thinking of the mess he had made of me.  Of the wreck I would always be.  The aftermath of that nightmare was endless.  Although no one could understand it.  Looking at him, no one could believe it.

No one ever believed me about Warren.  Except Mick, I thought as Mick hurried in through the blue front door.

Mick stopped abruptly upon seeing me shove Warren aside.  He walked past us without comment, but kept an eye out, in case I needed him.

Two men couldn’t have looked more different.  Warren was tall and classically handsome, polished, and educated at a prestigious university.  Mick looked more like a street thug.  Frankly he was not an attractive man at all, but there was something… something that attracted me more than anyone else.  His full lips and large blue eyes could express surprising gentleness.  I knew that he would always come if I needed help too.

Rather than swaggering into the room as Warren had done, Mick jumped from one cluster of friends to the next, with exuberant hugs for everyone.  It wasn’t flirtatious.  That was just Mick.

I wanted to trust Mick.  I wanted to love him.  Unfortunately I was far beyond being able to trust again.  I was terrified of loving anyone, ever again.  I looked at him wistfully.  If only I could be… like everyone else.

“Fine then!” Warren sneered.

He tightened his grip on my wrist only to throw it down.  That made it look like I had been the one trying to hold to him, rather than vice versa.

“You never were worth a f—  I’ll take Natalie with me to Saratoga.  She takes care of her body, and she makes three times more money than you.”

Taking care of herself was Warren-speak for being rail-thin.  He stalked to the blue door.  Looking over his shoulder, Warren sneered at me again.  He slammed the door as he left.

I knew the name Natalie.  That was the wife of one of his best friends.

My phone rang.  “Speak” of the devil.

I knew something else about Natalie, beyond her wealth and glamor.  She had been an underworld spy.  Now she earned her fortune through her clever and utterly devious mind.  She used that mind to avenge women.

“Yes.  He just left,” I said into the phone.  “The dish is ready.  Serve it cold.”

The end.


Thanks for visiting with me.  Click the link to Dan’s blog to see more doors and more stories.  I hope you’ll stop and leave a friendly comment. Fang and Dilly will be back with more of The Armadillo Files, once I’ve finished Dead of Winter.  Hugs on the wing!

2022 Thursday Doors badge by Teagan R. Geneviene


Thanks for spending part of your day here. I love to hear from you, so friendly comments are encouraged. Hugs on the wing!


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This is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

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67 thoughts on “A Strange Short for #ThursdayDoors Writing Challenge — Blue Door

      1. I found the link on Facebook this morning 💗
        The first thing I do in the morning is read my mail and then go on Facebook to wish my friends happy birthday … and so I noticed your post, before seeing it here
        Have a lovely Friday❣️

        Liked by 1 person

  1. I’m terrible at guessing these things but loved the story and the song made perfect sense in hindsight. Well done. And happy to hear that you’re making some progress with Dead of Winter. This was a great diversion. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Admire all the details you brought up in this story, but … I hope you never experienced a person like this in your circle of “friends,” for this is only a person who loves himself.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I am loving these little short stories, Teagan. And I had guessed the song before I saw it. It was the “clouds in my coffee” line that sealed it for me. What a narcissist! You did a fabulous job with this!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You gave me a huge smile, Priscilla. Thank you.
      I liked that image so much better than one of a cup with pretty swirls — the spilled look was right for the story. Sometimes it’s impossible to tell at Pixabay whether you are looking at the actual artist or just someone who collected a lot of works. Either way, there are several images at this link that could be from the same artist. Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. You are amazing! Another great, pleasing story with lots of great ideas. So you have computer and Internet problems as well! ! Keep up the “good story and good ideas” Have a great summer!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You are so very kind, Ms. Frances — thanks very much. I have no idea why my computer wouldn’t connect with the Internet. I finally got it working. Although, this “new” computer has been much less than desirable since the day I started using it… I almost started looking for another new one today.
      I hope you have been having a lovely May. I appreciate you visiting. Hugs on the wing.


    1. LOL. Maybe. Thanks, Fraggle. I used first names from the rumors about the song as a way to cause the reader to fill in descriptive details without me bogging down a very short story with a lot of description. LOL, Simon is still coy about the truth (except Beatty), so I won’t commit! 😀 Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, John. That means a lot to me coming from you. I admit that I’m still not sure what I did right. Maybe I simply picked the right song and it should get all the credit. (I shrug) I’m just happy that it has been well received. Have a beautiful weekend. Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Marian, your reaction made me smile. I woke up this morning thinking this wasn’t good enough, nobody would get it, and I should just take it down. For once I’m rather glad that I had computer and Internet trouble that kept me from doing that. Huge thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Great story and I love that Carly Simon song, so appropriate for this! I used that clouds in my coffee quote in the first book I wrote. Ah, now we need to hear of the cold revenge.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s such a great quote. I haven’t looked to try and figure out if it was original to Simon or if she took it from a literary source.
      Haha. This might be one of those times when leaving something (the cold revenge) to the imagination has much better results than putting it on paper. My favorite revenge scene is in The First Wives Club film. Goldie Hawn’s character was rich enough to repeatedly put a minutely smaller duplicate wardrobe in her husband’s closet, so he was constantly and progressively more uncomfortable. Meanwhile she/they put many pounds of raw shrimp into places like the drapery rods, so the smell would (again gradually) get worse and worse throughout his house.
      If I could come up with something that good, I would write it. LOL. Huge thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. A fascinating turn on “You’re So Vain”. Although not your usual style, I did love this story. Hugs shimmying your way. Now that Summer is coming, Winter will be going out the door, completed.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much, Pat. I wouldn’t fully realize what a weird mindset I’ve had the past few weeks, if not for these strange little stories I’ve been writing. When I sit down and write them, I definitely feel it. I’d rather have the whimsy I had when writing Hullaba Lulu. It was whimsy with a sinister edge. I guess it’s part of finishing Dead of Winter. It was more serious than anything I had written in the decade since. Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. This was fun, Teagan. A great play on a song that quickly came to mind. I felt like I was there 😉

    Thanks so much for supporting #TDWC with doors and stories. I hope the diversion clears the path for more DoW words to flow through.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m glad you enjoyed it, Dan — thank you. When I started writing whatever the song inspired, I could tell I was getting into a… well, an uncomfortable, weird place in my head. At first I tried to correct my course, but hit a blank wall. So, I just went with it. At least I was writing. Surprisingly, I think it struck a chord with people. Stay safe and well. Hugs on the wing.


    1. You are so kind — thank you. To think that I woke up this morning feeling this wasn’t good enough, nobody would get it, and I should just take it down. For once I’m rather glad that I had computer and Internet trouble that kept me from doing that. Huge thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. A fabulous revenge story, Teagan. And yes, as soon as I read, walking onto a yacht, I was singing along. Thanks for the fun and the inspiring image as well, and good luck with Dead of Winter.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I’m glad you enjoyed it, Tim. Oh, that’s a Pixabay image that I altered and tinkered around with. I never found out where it was. With a different shade of blue, it could be Taos. 😉 I hope all is well with you and yours, and not too much smoke. It’s okay here. Hugs on the wing.

      Liked by 1 person

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