The challenge: write a short story (or poem) in 200 words or less, opening with the words "The door swung open." For an additional challenge, you can close with the words "the door swung shut" and/or make your story EXACTLY 200 words.
Definitely challenging, but also a lot of fun. My entry follows. If you enjoy it, you can go read entries by other participants all week. They'll be linked in this entry on Rach's blog. (For the record, I'm #69 on the Linky list).
Viva la challenge!
The door swung open.
Sunlight made the drops leftover from the storm glisten gold. She breathed in the wet stone and flowering vines of the village. In the distance, the sea stretched beyond the boats until she couldn’t see anything but sky.
It was beautiful.
She wasn’t fooled.
Beneath the sweet rain and greenery lay something else. Something rotten; mechanical. The only sound was the distant clicking of the clock tower.
Her fingers wrapped around the lightweight metal of her pistol. She held it out of view behind the doorframe. It would be better if they thought her weak, unarmed. It would be best to stay holed up until their batteries wore down, but that wasn’t an option. Her water supply was gone.
She stepped outside, ignoring the bite of broken flagstones on her bare feet. Quick, now. A cracked pipe still leaking fresh water was hidden fifty yards down the street. She’d be there and back before they could react.
The faintest slick of oiled pistons sighed behind her.
No. Too late.
Slow as suffering, she turned her head and stared into the thing’s glowing green eyes.
As the mainframe began to pixilate and decay, the door swung shut.