A Black That Remembers
Brigid had the office door painted Vantablack; she loved this colour, it was so dark it erased everything but consequence.
Customers slowed in caution as they passed it, uncertain whether it was a surface or a hole; the crow croaked “wormhole” at it endlessly, and Pierre swore he heard a slow, deliberate ring … like someone waiting to be welcomed in.
When Brigid opened that door, the light folded back on itself before following her in, like a dog afraid of thunder — but once inside, the walls waited in their ordinary matte-flat whiteness.
Yet everyone who stepped across the threshold swore the room had swallowed them whole.
“Vantablack,” Brigid told Pierre, “is a reminder that not even light is safe from darkness,” (…he still refused to go near it when it was closed).
“Cette satanée porte,” he’d mutter, glancing over his shoulder, “the dark has learned my name.”
Previous Instalments – To access all of the instalments on one page, please use this link. Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “ring“. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.

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