Microfiction: This wasn't where he wanted to be.

This wasn't where he wanted to be. The fields of soft snow covered the land, like fields of asphodel, for as far as he could see, until it blurred with the white sky, forming the horizon. Everything was gray. There were no landmarks in this monochromatic new world, except the occasional hill in the distance. He began to head towards the nearest hill, leaving two parallel lines where his feet sifted through the snow. His breath hung like smoke in the sharp air. When he reached the top of the white snow dune, he glanced back at where he first began and saw only a perfect layer of snow, with no evidence of himself existing at all. In the distance was a dark figure, casting its contrasting presence over the white lands around it. He rushed towards it and, as he did, saw the figure materialize into a door. While examining the wooden door, which was very plainly built out of light wooden boards, he observed that it swung open both ways, and was held up by a wooden frame. He had not quite stepped into it before a small voice resonated from the other side of the door.

            “Do you think that’s the right side of the door?” asked the voice.

            He looked down to see a cat, wearing the same color as the door. He did not know what to say to a cat. He didn’t usually talk to cats.

            “Or perhaps that is the wrong side?” asked the cat.

            “Who are you?” asked he to the cat.

            “I can tell you which side is right,” said the cat, “and which side is not.”

            He hadn’t known very many cats, but this one was certainly not helpful, and so he wondered if all cats weren’t helpful.

            “What is right and wrong about entering doors?” inquired him to the cat.

            “There is no right and wrong to entering a door,” explained the cat, “it is which side of the door you enter that is right or wrong.”

            “How so?” he asked the cat, skeptically.

            “Well, one side brings you to heaven, and the other takes you to hell,” the cat explained.

            “Only dead people go to those places.”

            “Who’s to say you aren’t?”

            He paused at the cat’s argument.

            “Exactly, and if you help me, I can help you,” offered the cat, “Just give me your soul. I heard human souls are a delicacy.”

            “But then there is no point of going through the door at all!” he exclaimed to the cat.

            “Why of course there is! It’s not like you need a soul, with its silly emotions weighing you down always.”

            But he, as a human, had always thought that souls were important. That was what he was taught. So, he decided to kick the cat through one side of the door and see what happened. The cat disappeared in a wisp of black smoke with a musty odor. He decided to take the other side instead.