Just a little ConNat to brighten your day.
Locksmith
The brisk winds of midnight rushed unhindered across the empty highway, following the straight asphalt path while casting aside fall leaves to mingle with the debris of life. Determined breezes were interrupted only by the front-end of the speeding Escalade. Roughly parting the swirling air with its boxy grill, the white SUV roared out of town at the stroke of 2am with purpose to every manipulation of the wheel.
The driver had a destination to reach.
It had been surprisingly easy, breaking several implicit regulations in favor of this…this thing which defied labeling. Three rules by his count. Yet there had been an uncharacteristic lack of struggle in him. Perhaps the internal battle had fatigued him to the point that outward fighting was impossible. Clearly this was a component of some devious plan, strangely stimulating as it was. Such was the danger of becoming entangled with a clever woman.
But, oh, the rewards.
The baggage was an appendage to him, like a briefcase chained to one's wrist. Inconvenient but necessary. Guarding said baggage mandated an unhealthy amount of willpower. Releasing the grip on the handle was inconceivable. Besides, had he let go, it would only rattle behind him, still attached and noisily present. Better to just hold on to keep it quiet. The history of fear, failure and loss were neatly folded into the bag; his own temper acting as a bodyguard. And then there was the lock.
Industrial strength, it required a key, a combination and thumbprint identification. None of which he'd ever possessed. In truth, the extra limb had been in place for so long, he wasn't sure he wanted to amputate it. The baggage kept others away, which in turn fed the baggage, which kept others away…endless cycles were something of a comfort zone. In the few moments that he would consider eradicating the gargantuan gear, it showed itself to be too laborious a task. Daunting, time consuming and ultimately pointless, the attempts were always short-lived.
To her, it was child's play.
Failing to possess the key, the combination or the thumbprint, she'd maneuvered him into an unlocked position without a single touch. As though her presence sufficed for all that was lacking, the baggage seemed to unhinge itself and tumble freely away. The scientist in him was curious how this was accomplished. The broken man in him could only muster gratitude. Once bereft of her presence, the freedom vanished.
Which is why he drove so fast.
Because the fear, failure and loss tended to creep angry fingers along his spine, seeking to reclaim its place. The lock would shake off its rust and fight for reattachment. When he was alone.
He couldn't be alone.
The brisk winds of midnight calmed as he neared the destination and the unforgiving shackles trembled upon recognition. Standing in the open doorway, the locksmith smiled a warm, inviting greeting. She'd been expecting him and he hastened to accept the welcome. The lock fell in rusted lifelessness to the asphalt, winds huffing an impatient breath to bury it under the debris of life.