Prompt: You look through the peephole of your front door and see this:
What came out of my head:
Ashes. There were ashes everywhere. Lisa's eye widened to take in as much as she could. The dark grey sky made it hard to see and it seemed like a storm was coming. Or had already come and gone. She drew in a breath and pushed away from the door.
"What the..." she whispered. Her heart quickened as she tried to process what she saw. Afraid to draw back the curtain from the window beside the door, she leaned into the door again. Closing her eyes she got as close as she could and willed herself to look again.
Ashes. There were still ashes everywhere. Not so much like there was just a house fire but as if the whole world had burned around her. The wind was stirring up the dust and the isolation of the world outside her door threatened to envelope her soul. She quickly stepped away, looking around, trying to decide what to do; who to call.
She looked at the window again. The heavy curtain blocked most of the light but the edges were so much brighter than the light she had just seen through the peep hole of her door.
She sucked in all the air she could and let out a slow, long breath. Stepping to the window she carefully touched the curtain and let each finger fall on the material before shutting her eyes again and allowing her hand to let the light in. The brightness lit up the darkness she saw behind her closed lids and curiosity won as she looked fully on to the scene outside.
It was...as it should be. Bright. Sunny. Lisa pressed her hands against the glass and stared in confusion. Children rode by on bikes, chased each other around parked cars. One neighbor in a football jersey spoke to another as he washed his car. Lisa shook her head. Closed and reopened her eyes. She grew calm as she realized her order had been restored.
The ringing doorbell made her jump.
She was still new to the area and didn't know a soul yet. She wasn't worried but she couldn't get her mother's parting words out of her mind. "I know you're a liberated woman, Lisa, but be careful in that big city, ok? All this peace and love your generation keeps spouting doesn't negate that there are evil doers out there." Lisa couldn't convince her mother to leave the dark ages and step into the 60s but she could certainly step into it for herself. And she did. Alone. A feminist who could take care of herself.
Still, it didn't hurt to be safe. Who could it be? She looked out the peephole once again. Ashes filled the streets once again and this time, she looked harder. Were those...
"People," she said out loud. "Those look like people but they aren't moving." She spotted the charred clothes of the corpses and recognized the jersey of her car-washing neighbor. Looking around there was something hidden under a car. The shape was familiar. The bent metal reshaped itself in her mind and she recognized it for the child's bicycle it was.
"Oh my God. The bomb. They dropped the bomb." As she said the words, Lisa could see the sky light up and a mobile puff of smoke start to streak across the sky. Sirens began to blast and she dropped to her knees waiting to feel the impact. As she cowered she remembered the children playing.
The doorbell's chime sent Lisa scurrying across the floor. "Go away," she shouted, crawling backward as she spoke. But the bell was persistent and rang again. Lisa gasped, unsure of what to do and looked at the window yet again. The same bright light shone down to the floor and the doorbell rang again.
"No. No. No!" Lisa sprung up from the floor, her lips curled in contempt for whatever it was that was trying to torment her. She refused to look out the tiny hole again. This time she would face it head on. Grabbing the knob, she yanked open the door with all her might.
The young curly-headed teen stood smiling outside the screen. He adjusted his glasses as he held up pamphlets. "Hi there. My name is Adam. Did you know that our country stands at the brink of nuclear devastation? It could happen at any minute. Join our cause. Help us save our world."
What's this about, Monica?
You don't know? Why, it's my own March Madness!
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