#OriginalFiction – November 3

She slapped the floor again, in front of her, to try and figure out if this was a hollow before a single loose board, or something bigger. The sound was still hollow. She set the lamp on the floor and slapped the floor on her other side. Careful to not knock over the lamp, she continued to bang the floor until she got a rough idea of the dimensions of the door in the floor.

She reached and grabbed the small broom from the hearth. Starting from a handprint in the dust where the sound was still hollow, but closest to where the sound of solid dirt under the floor began again, she carefully swept the length of the board. When she reached where it joined another, she swept perpendicular to its length, looking for a uniform crack in what should be a staggered section, to indicate a cellar door.

Slowly and meticulously, she swept all along the seams, using her fingers as much as her eyes. When the outlines of the door were cleared, she studied it, searching for a way to lift it.

She wondered for a moment if she could move through floors the way she did walls, but was grateful the magic was not working that way at the moment. She did not know what was on the other side of the door in the floor. For all she knew, the river could be running under her, though she thought if that were the case, she should be able to hear it. Still, she was perfectly happy to have a chance to open the door before she found herself on the other side.

Running her fingers along the seam, she found two knots, almost directly across from one another, that would allow her to get her fingers under the wood. The door was only about two feet by two feet, so she positioned herself with her back to the fireplace, placed her fingers in the knots, got a grip, and lifted.

It was lighter than she expected and lifted easily. She stood and placed the section of floor carefully up against one of the walls. She lifted the lamp and looked down.