Lockout

As soon as the door clicks to, I realize that the keys I'm carrying are my work keys, not my house keys. I can feel them, small and useless in my pocket, mocking me. 

I walk downstairs and just stand for a minute in front of my neighbor's door, listening, but I don't hear anything. They have a spare set of keys in there, and I'm almost dead certain they're not home, but I rap on the metal door with my knuckles anyway, and stand there, like a lump, ears straining in the quiet of the building, until, from what seems like an impossible distance away, upstairs, the dog barks.

---------------------

One year ago today: You Just Made it Mad!

Two years ago today: Class Concerns

Nine years ago today: 1-25-08 Gloves