A Short Story by Doris Markland

thB5X1VK83                          The Gate

I don’t remember how I got here or what the entire plan was.  But it was arranged for people to meet me at the gate and, you know, fill me in on how to act, what to say and not say, and how things are done here.  I lived with them for a while and they showed by example how to have a good life here, as well as sharing the rules that would keep me out of trouble.  They were good people.  In a few years they were gone, but I had found my way, made new friends, and in time I had a mate and children of my own . . . . . . . . . . . .

Wait . . . wait . . .they are not my own, never were . . . I remember now . . .they are the ones I was sent to meet at the gate . . . . . .

4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Sara Markland
    Jan 15, 2014 @ 01:12:47

    this brings to mind your story about the dream you had the night I gave birth to Jason….


  2. Kathy
    Jan 24, 2014 @ 07:00:07

    Very interesting thoughts…..


  3. Marge Holland
    Apr 16, 2015 @ 12:06:29

    Doris I read the NDN online daily as we are living in ABQ NM. I saw the item about your new book and will get it to read. Please be in touch–we have had good times in the past, and I am still reading and writing.


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