Twimley

1st Place in Derby #347: Inspired By Vintage Posters, with 378 votes!

Twimley Hoover had read stories of this place, the outside. It lay behind one of the doors of his house, but it was not a room. Supposedly, every house had a door to the outside. It was like one huge communal den, but not as comfortable or warm.

In the outside, as Twimley had heard, the floor sometimes slanted upwards at angles severe, but this was totally okay; you didn't need to call someone to inspect your floor boards for damage or anything. Supposedly, there were people in the outside who relished these slants, made a game of moving up them by way of special shoes and pick-axes and ropes.

Twimley had also heard that the ceiling in the outside was so high up that you couldn't touch it even if you stood on a chair. The ceiling held only one bright lightbulb that refused to stay on during the night hours, and a touchy sprinkler system that seemed to set itself off with its own dark wisps of smoke.

In the outside, there were few couches or coffee tables. Most of the furniture in outside emerged from the floor jagged and uncomfortable, and if you left a box of crackers out on one of these pieces overnight, it might not be there in the morning.

Twimley did not not know exactly which door it was in his house that connected to the outside, but he narrowed it down to three by process of elimination. He took duct tape and taped over these three doors entirely. Then he sat in his recliner and breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe from the outside for now.

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