The prompt for today from Hive account@mariannewest was "barn door".

Here is what came from the prompt:

Octavio watched his guide as they approached the two hills that collided with one another when pilgrims tried to pass between them. Xochipulli began to remark something, but his lips closed moments after he opened them. He was beaten into silence by submission to the heaviness of their quest: what words could he offer to stay the heart of the young man? The young man who, just the night before, was soaked through with the rain of his hardened heart, wrapped in the wood of a decimated barn, the door his clothing.

There was a dangerous energy in the hills. Octavio understood this much without words from the Flower Prince. The hills he was meant to pass between were the very contentions in his heart. The contentions between his Mexican and American heritages, the contentions between values of individualism and collectivism, the contentions between doing what he had been taught in his Christian faith and doing what he had been taught by much older scripture - celibate and sinless or tainted with blasphemy. Yet, he was here, in Mictlan, without sight of a redeemer

It was then that Octavio realized that redemption was love, harmony, and anything but discord. He felt his spirit waver no more and passed between the two hills. They cast shadows that spoke of ill omens across Octavio’s face, and body. His spirit guide and the patron of his people, the flowery prince that watched over artists and lovers alike, followed close behind him, watching the shadows as they morphed into unsettling shapes.