Even
after a squirt of oil, the lock wouldn’t budge.
“Wrong key? Or maybe we don’t
have one. Now what?”
“We saw it off.”
“Got a saw?”
My
dad huffed out a laugh. “First time I’ve
been without my own tools in fifty years.
Makes me feel kinda naked.”
“Thanks for that mental image, Dad.
Got any other ideas?”
(from A Dead Red Alibi
by R.P. Dahlke)
.
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