There was a doorway and within its recess, a door, locked against him. He found a ring of keys inside his pocket and tried them one by one until he heard the silent clicking of the tumblers. He pushed it inward, wide and wider, as he would open up his mouth to eat a sandwich, the kind he used to daily get for lunch at Vonetti’s down the street from the brewery. He opened it with all the learned patience of a two year-old and hurried in and closed it tight behind him.
First draft, rough, straight from the little guy in the brain who snuck it by the Editor. But it’s going somewhere and it has a place in my protagonist’s ending life.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology