{"id":2502,"date":"2023-04-29T12:52:08","date_gmt":"2023-04-29T19:52:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2502"},"modified":"2023-04-29T12:52:08","modified_gmt":"2023-04-29T19:52:08","slug":"walk-out-closet","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/04\/29\/walk-out-closet\/","title":{"rendered":"Walk-Out Closet"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story involving a portal into a parallel universe.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everyone over the age of two knows how doors work. You can open a door and go from one space to another, and from the other to the one. That\u2019s it. Nothing more. Except for the door that stood open in front of Scott.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The landlady had insisted that his new apartment was laid out exactly like the model unit. The model unit\u2019s walk-in closet only had one door, though. This second door had to lead outside his apartment. By the location of his corner apartment, it should lead directly outside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had opened it, hoping to be pleasantly surprised by a secret balcony, only to see another bedroom beyond the door. Leaving the door open, he rushed out of the closet, into the bathroom that shared an outside wall with the closet. The small, frosted glass window in the bathroom let in the light of the sun, dappled shadows from the large trees swaying in the breeze. There was nothing where the room on the other side of the closet would be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott returned to the closet and looked at the apartment on the other side of the second door in his closet. It had to be an optical illusion of some sort. He opened one of the boxes he\u2019d been about to unpack and pulled out a plastic hangar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He tried to tap on the mirror or screen or whatever lay beyond the door. There was nothing. He tossed the hanger, thinking that it might go back a foot or two. The hanger sailed halfway across the other bedroom and clattered to the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHello?\u201d He leaned through the doorway. \u201cAnyone here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When there was no answer, he stepped through and picked up the hangar. The bedroom looked like the one he\u2019d just left, but oriented on the other side of the building.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked around the apartment that shouldn\u2019t exist. The sound of voices from the hallway, one of them the landlady\u2019s, ended his exploration early. He returned through the closet to his own apartment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott shut the second door, and decided he would get a lock for it and just pay for the damages out of his deposit. He dropped the hangar back into the box he\u2019d just opened, except it was still sealed tight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Looking around the room, everything seemed as he remembered it\u2026maybe? He wandered through the apartment, stopping in the kitchen. He\u2019d stashed the new yellow broom next to the fridge. It wasn\u2019t his first choice for colors, but it was the last one the store had in stock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His freshly signed lease was still sitting on the breakfast bar. He checked beside the fridge. The broom was there, but it was a powder blue. This was not<\/em> his apartment\u2026at least, not the one he\u2019d been in just ten minutes ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott returned to the bedroom and began going through the boxes. He recognized most of the items, with a few minor inconsistencies. He put on a pair of sneakers, grabbed his wallet off the bed and dropped his keys into his pocket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked through the wallet. Everything looked normal, except that he had two-hundred-thirty dollars in cash. He never carried cash unless it was a necessity, and he\u2019d had none when he\u2019d first stepped into the apartment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If he\u2019d gone through the door into another universe, did that mean that coming back through didn\u2019t return him to his starting position? Scott needed to think about it, and more than that, he needed a drink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDay drinking,\u201d he said to his reflection in the mirror. \u201cIf it doesn\u2019t solve the problem, at least it makes it seem less daunting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He left the apartment and walked to the corner market. It looked the same on the outside, but he\u2019d only seen it when coming to view the apartment and then when moving in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sign on the door read Lotto, Deli Sandwich\u2019s & Cold Drink\u2019s<\/em>\u2026complete with the superfluous apostrophes. Scott took a deep breath and promised himself he wouldn\u2019t let it annoy him. There were bigger things at play here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He found the alcohol where he expected it, in the locked cabinet behind the cashier. \u201cA bottle of the 12-year Irish whiskey, please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cID?\u201d the woman at the register asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He showed his driver\u2019s license, and she motioned him to turn it around. He did so, and she scanned the barcode on the back and seemed satisfied with the sound the register made.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She unlocked the cabinet, removed the only bottle of its kind, and locked the cabinet before placing it near the register, out of his reach. \u201cThat\u2019s seventy-one-fifty,\u201d she said. \u201cAnything else?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott shook his head. \u201cNo thanks.\u201d He placed a hundred-dollar bill on the counter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cashier ran a pen across the bill to ensure it was real, then wrapped the bottle in a paper bag and passed it across the counter followed by his change. \u201cNew face,\u201d she said. \u201cYou just moved into the Argo?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Argo?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRiver Greens Overlook apartments,\u201d she said. \u201cRGO\u2026Argo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSee you around then, Scott,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m Tiffany. And since you aren\u2019t buying a bottle of hooch, you\u2019re either rich or not a full-time drunk. Both of which are rare around here during work hours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, just moving in today,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He went back to his apartment and looked over everything again. The broom was still powder blue. He cracked the bottle and was about to swig directly from it when he stopped himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A minute of digging through the two kitchen boxes brought him to the rocks glasses. He pulled one out, wiped the inside with the paper towels it had been packed in, and poured himself two fingers of whiskey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was smooth and warmed his insides. Carrying the glass, he went back into the bedroom and looked in the closet. The second door was still there, and still closed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He drained the glass and went back to the kitchen for a refill. While there, he checked the drawers for anything that might have been left behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the back of one drawer, he found a piece of sidewalk chalk. It gave him an idea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott went to the bedroom and marked the floor just outside the closet with a 3<\/em>. He entered the closet and marked the floor there with another 3<\/em>. He opened the door and looked at the bedroom beyond. Reaching through with just one hand and the chalk, he marked the floor there with \u201c4?<\/em>\u201d and pulled his hand back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The marks in the closet and bedroom remained unchanged. Still clutching the chalk and drink, he stepped halfway through the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Looking back, the marks seemed the same. He took a deep breath and stepped through the rest of the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The floor in front of him still carried the same mark. The floor in the closet and the floor in the bedroom beyond were marked 11<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He knew this was bad, but he wasn\u2019t sure how bad. He erased the question mark from the floor, leaving the 4<\/em>, then checked the kitchen. The broom was still powder blue, but his signature on the lease agreement looked off, and there was no bottle of whiskey on the counter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott wondered about the other versions of him. Were they trapped, going through the same thing he was? The reversed apartment layout felt wrong, so he took a deep breath and headed back to the closet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Time to step into number eleven<\/em>, he thought. He began drawing a line from the middle of the bedroom into the closet, and as he stepped through the door, he found the line continuing into the bedroom, right past the number 11<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On looking back, the line was there, running past the number 10<\/em> rather than 4. How many times have I done this? <\/em>he wondered. He hoped this time there would be a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. There was, but it was half empty. He poured another two fingers and checked the broom\u2026pink with flowers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott picked up the lease agreement and didn\u2019t recognize the signature at all. He flipped it over to write a message to one of his other selves, only to find one already there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy name is Scottie, 31 years old, born in San Francisco, California, Mexico. Every time I go through the second door in the closet everything changes. I am just trying to get back home. I no longer think it\u2019s possible, but I keep trying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott went to the bedroom and looked through the boxes. Women\u2019s clothing. He left the apartment and went to the corner market. The sign on the door read, Lotto, Deli Sandwiches, and Cold Drinks<\/em>. Well, that was at least a positive change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He walked in. \u201cTiffany, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo I know you? Oh, wait, you look just like the woman that was in here earlier. Are you her brother?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUh, yeah.\u201d He headed to the soft drink cooler and selected something high in caffeine. He brought it to the counter where she scanned it, and he tried his bank card on the machine, but it was rejected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMachine\u2019s acting up again,\u201d Tiffany said. \u201cDo you have cash?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott pulled out the change he\u2019d gotten earlier and laid a twenty on the counter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d Tiffany asked. \u201cForeign money from somewhere? We only take dollars. North American<\/em> dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI must\u2019ve grabbed my travel wallet. I\u2019ll come back for it later.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scott returned to the apartment and looked at the message again. He turned over the lease agreement and checked the particulars. This was no longer California, USA, but was \u201cWestern Coastal Territory, NA.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sat in front of the closet with the remainder of the bottle. He would wait until another version of himself showed up. Maybe stop himself\u2026herself?<\/em>\u2026before they stepped all the way through to see if \u201ctrading\u201d universes was possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If another version of him didn\u2019t show up, well, at least it would take a while to enjoy the rest of the whiskey. He would let his future, empty-bottle self figure out the next move then.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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