Sunday, January 17, 2010

The Temple of a Thousand Doors

Purple light passed in slow waves across the floor and the walls of the room. It was a hexagonal room, rather like the enlarged cell of a honeycomb. Every second wall had a door in it, and on the intervening walls were painted strange pictures representing landscapes and creaturs who seemed to be half plant and half animal. Bastian had entered through one of the doors; the other two, to the right and the left of it, were exactly the same shape, but the left-hand door was black, while the right-hand one was white. Bastian chose the white door.
In the next room the light was yellowish. Here again the walls formed a hexagon. The pictures represented all manner of contrivances that meant nothing to Bastian. Were they tools or weapons? The two doors leading onward to the right and left were the same color, yellow, but the left-hnad one was tall and narrow, while the one on the right was low and wide. Bastian chose the left-hand one.
The next room was hexagonal like the others, but the light was bluish. The pictures on the walls were of intricate ornaments or characters in a strange alphabet. Here the two doors were the same color, but of different material, one of wood, the other of metal. Bastian chose the wooden door.
It is not possible to describe all the doors and rooms through which Bastian passed during his stay in the Temple of a Thousand Doors. There were doors that looked like large keyholes, and others that resembled the entrance to caves, there were golden doors and rusty iron doors, some were padded and some were studded with nails, some were paper-thin, and others as thick as the doors of treasure houses; there was one that looked like a giant's mouth and another that had to be opened like a drawbridge, one that suggested a big ear and one that was made of gingerbread, one that was shaped like an oven door, and one that had to be unbuttoned. The two doors leading out of the room always had something in common--the shape, the material, the size, the color--but there was always some essential difference between the them.
Bastian had passed many times from one hexagonal room to another. Every decision he made led to yet another decision. But after all these decisions he was still in the Temple of a Thousand Doors. As he went on and on, he began to wonder why this should be. His wish had sufficed to lead him into the maze, but apparently it was not definite enough to enable him to find the way out. He had wished for company. But now he realized that by company he had meant no one in particular. This vague wish hadn't helped him at all. Thus far his decisions had been based on mere whim and involved very little thought. In every case he might just as well have taken the other door. At this rate he would never find his way out.
(Just then he was in a room with a greenish light. Three of the six walls had variously shaped clouds painted on them. The door to the left was of mother-if-pearl, the one on the right of ebony. And suddenly he knew who he wished for: Atreyu!)

You probably haven't read The Neverending Story. You probably should. :)

Monday, January 11, 2010

Dear 27:

Live up to the first party of the year, and I think we'll be all right.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Dear 26:

I'm so over you.

Loves, ke.