A Door. A Key.
written by: Nate Stonecypher
I found a door into spring. I stepped through, left ice-white winter, walked the viridescent way.
Yellow daffodils smiled as I passed. Tulips sang Hallelujah in fortissimo chorus. Goldfinches gathered quarter-notes from the air, wove them into brilliant nests of azure and flame.
In the shade of a shrub bursting with brilliant blue blossoms, I found a twilight-coloured key. Sunlight summoned me from a keyhole in an emerald hillside. I turned the key.
Behind me grew ten thousand cherry trees, chanting Rise, Rise, climbing in pink profusion to the cloud-castled sky.
Beyond, I saw winter’s distant door close in silence.
Nate Stonecypher is a retired university professor and local-government bureaucrat who has lived in many places over a long lifetime. He now calls Wyoming USA home, and shares it with one spouse and several cats—the exact number varies but is never less than two. When Nate was seven years old, his Uncle Bill—a born storyteller—told him that he (Nate) was a born storyteller. At age eight, he was regularly put in detention for being a class clown, making others laugh, and general buffoonish storytell-ery. At age nine, Nate’s mum told him he’d already spoken as many words as an ordinary person spoke in a lifetime. So he started writing them down instead. Now he’s in his 70s, still writing. True lies, every word. (Albert Camus). When the day comes, Nate’s tombstone will read: "Continued on the other side."
Latest posts by Nate Stonecypher (see all)
- A Door. A Key. - May 21, 2026
- Mary Had a Ferris Wheel - February 25, 2026
- Cats of the Twilight - September 2, 2025
