Three Doors (part three)
✨ PART 3 — The Glowing Island
Their only light came from the moon, which kept slipping behind drifting clouds. Then, in the distance, something floated on the water.
It wasn’t a boat.
It wasn’t an animal.
It was a shape — glowing brightly around the edges with a soft green light.
As the children stared, a huge school of fish swam past them, thousands upon thousands leaping in and out of the water. Some even landed in the boat. The children tossed them back while the seagull gobbled up every one he could catch.
Following the dancing trail of fish, they sailed toward the glowing shape.
When they reached it, the boat drifted forward gently, almost respectfully, and slid onto the island with no sound at all. The sea around them was calm and still, as though holding its breath.
The three friends looked at one another in silent amazement.
Then they stepped onto the island.
As they wandered, the ground beneath them shimmered and glimmered. It was made of the twisted roots of the tall trees rising above them. The gaps between the roots were filled with glowing water that gently splashed as they walked.
Moonlight guided their path. Ahead of them lay a huge pile of fruit — bananas, peaches, oranges, nectarines, all looking impossibly fresh and delicious.
Laughter replaced the silence as they ate, gulping and squelching their way through the fruit. They devoured everything, stopping only to gasp for breath or wipe juice from their chins.
When the last banana was gone, they lay back on the soft roots and gazed up at the stars.
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“I’ve had fun,” Matilda said softly, “but I miss home. Don’t you, Frederick?”
“Yeah,” Frederick sighed. “And it would be great to have some of Samson’s aunt’s chocolate cake to finish it all off.”
Samson gave a small, thoughtful smile.
“Yes… if only we knew the way back home.”
Just as he spoke, a flash of bright light tore through the sky, like a bolt of lightning. It struck the ground just a few feet away.
Smoke exploded upward, swirling and rolling over the ground. The friends coughed and swatted at it as they scrambled to their feet.
When the smoke finally cleared —
Three oak doors stood before them.
The doors had beautifully carved old-fashioned frames, made of deep red timber. But what was most unusual was that the frames wiggled — not straight at all, but shifting like gentle ocean waves.
Even stranger:
They weren’t attached to anything.
Not a wall.
Not a building.
They stood freely, front and back visible.
And all around the island was silence.
Before anyone could speak, a deep voice boomed through the night:
“Here stands your way back home. Choose with determination and wisely, for the path will not be the same for each of you. Decide one by one… or be stranded forever.”
The children froze.
