The Lock

 I had gotten out of work, deciding to walk home as a sort of luxury. The night was cold and still, but I pressed on. About a mile in it rained profusely, and lacking rain gear I sought out shelter. The nearest building was a small hotel, run by a mild-mannered family for years. I ducked in, and was greeted with what I like to think was mere apathy. The room was poorly lit, which emphasized the forlorn expressions displayed by the tenants. The service counter was tucked into the far corner, overshadowed by the breakfast area, currently devoid of food. A few people sat around a small, round coffee table, looking into their laps with their hands in their heads. I had half a mind to engage them, but decided against it. They looked content in the gloom that filled the foyer. My wife was out of town, and on a whim I decided to stay, to help out the small business. I approached the woman at the service counter, quickly received my room key. The room was small, with only a nightstand and a bed near the window. The nightstand lacked a Bible, which stuck me as unacceptably abnormal. Flustered now, I went looking for an explanation, but found myself coming across a room labeled “Library”. The bluntness stopped me in my tracks, and I had thought there would be no better place for a Bible to reside. I studied the door for a moment, admiring the intricacy of the lock. The standard key for the hotel was those electronic, credit card looking keys. This lock was quite out of place, not only because it was mechanical but because it seemed to predate the hotel, and quite frankly, the town. It was large, diamond shaped, the patina muffled the sheen of the silver metal. Abstract figures were engraved into the face plate, with ivory branches protruding out of the diamond, breaking up the symmetry of it. It seemed as if the figures were trying to climb out of the lock, into reality. I kept looking at it but the images changed every time. I had seen hands, claws, and even faces, racing to escape their artistic imprisonment. The more I looked, the more I felt a chill in the air, the feeling that I was somewhere I didn't belong. My problems with the lack of religious literature left me, and I promptly left the hotel. It was still raining, but outside I was sure that whatever resided in the small building would not follow me.  

Reviews

[Kaitlyn]

: )

This is really cool.

The flow is a bit choppy at times, tho. Mostly in the lack of writing in between when 'I' gets his/her room key and gets to his/her room. There was so much beautiful description and then lack-there-of.

But, aside from that, this had me captivated from beginning to end, which was a regrettably short amount of time!

If you ever decide to continue this, I'd love to read it. : )

Awesome job.