Gervic in Wonderland

[A-3] Down the Rabbit Hole :: The Golden Key

A. Down the Rabbit Hole
The Golden Key

You've come across a key that unlocks anything. Write a poem (<40 lines) or a short story (<500 words) about this most fascinating item in your possession.

My hand trembled as I held the golden key, its tarnished metal glinting in the dim attic light. It felt old, older than anything in the cobweb-draped space, and I sensed a subtle hum from it as if it held a dormant pulse.

The attic was where my grandmother stored all the forgotten things, a hodgepodge of steamer trunks, chipped china, and yellowing photographs. I'd always loved poking about up there, a little Indiana Jones in a dust-filled kingdom. But this time, the key had called to me, nestled in a velvet box that hadn't been there before.

No inscription, no hint of its purpose. Yet, I held it and whispered a silly wish, almost as a joke, "I wish this old lock would open." The attic's ancient padlock, rusted and immovable since I was a child, clicked. A shiver ran down my spine.

It couldn't be, could it? Curiosity overrode caution. I tried the key on everything I could – a worn suitcase, a grandfather clock that had long ago ceased ticking, even the attic door itself. They yielded, every one of them, as if the key was more a command than an implement.

Then my eyes fell on an old wardrobe, its wood scarred and dark. There was no knob, just two massive keyholes. My breath hitched. I fit the golden key first in one, then in the other. With a sound like an indrawn breath, the wardrobe doors swung open.

This was impossible. Beyond the wardrobe doors wasn't darkness and mothballed clothes, but a forest bathed in an ethereal golden light. The air smelled of wildflowers and damp earth, and the rustle of leaves was unlike any I'd ever heard.

Heart pounding, I stepped through the wardrobe.

The old attic with its familiar dust and shadows were gone. I stood in a woodland glade dappled with sunlight I couldn't see filtering through the trees. A path wound away, beckoning, and an overwhelming sense of rightness filled me. It was like all the questions I'd ever held had settled, the answers waiting just around the next bend.

The air hummed again, and I realized it wasn't coming from the key, but from me. As I turned the key in my hand, it vanished with a faint shimmer, dissolving into me.

It wasn't the key that had unlocked this world, I realized. It had unlocked something within myself. And now, all I had to do was walk the path.

Attic's heart, where shadows dwell,
A golden key, a trembling spell.
Dust of ages, whispers low,
A tarnished gleam, a pulse to know.

Cobwebs cling to treasures lost,
Grandmother's trove, by time embossed.
Young explorer, spirit bright,
A whispered wish, in fading light.

Ancient lock, a rusted sigh,
Yet yields to touch, beneath the sky.
Curiosity, a tempting flame,
Key in hand, and rules untamed.

Suitcase worn, and clock's still face,
The key commands, in boundless space.
Wardrobe looms, with secrets deep,
Two keyholes sigh, as hinges weep.

A world beyond, in golden beams,
Wildflower scent, and whispered dreams.
Heart aflame, a path unfurled,
The attic fades, a vanished world.

No turn of key, but spirit's flight,
The shimmer fades, in newfound might.
The key dissolves, a truth unsealed,
Power within, forever revealed.

Word/Line Count:
Story: 411 Words
Poem: 24 Lines

In the manGer(vic), He sleeps
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