Locked out of My Room

Today I was locked out of my room. It was surprising because I never even knew that my door had a lock on it. At first, I thought it was just jammed and wouldn’t budge. But I almost broke my shoulder trying to enter.


So I called the locksmith. The person on the phone sounded very enthusiastic, but I also think that I may have been rather clumsy. I’m relatively certain that they knocked over a cup or something.

They told me they’d be at my location by 12:30 and at 12:28 I heard a knock at my door. They were the most peculiar looking people; one had no ears, and one had no mouth. As soon as I let them in, the one with no-ears (Mark) remarked about how cold it was. The thinner one (who I’m told likes to be called Tim) nodded in approval.

They were inspecting the door when they told me to find the deed or master key. I left and came back empty handed and when I returned I saw Tim leaning into Mark’s neck, and I heard a hushed whisper. He must have had something in his eye because there was a small red part in the center of his eye.

Then the door slid away from Marks’ hands as his eyes slowly fixated to mine. A calm, cold spread it’s way from the floor up. Bathing us in the coldness. A small cat slid itself into our presence and skirted down the stairs. When I turned the corner to see where it had gone, I saw it sitting in front of the door. It’s rear firmly places on the red tape of the front door closet.

Down Stairs

When I approached the kitty to let it out of my house, I noticed it was blind. The cat stared right at me though and opened its mouth as if to speak, but no noise left. Then, as if it heard something it scurried back up the stairs again. The residential locksmiths stepped down in sync from the stairs and told me that they hadn’t seen the cat come back up, that it must be with me.

Then the most bizarre thing happened. I withdrew my wallet to pay them, and they told me it was free and only told me one thing. “Terminar la bocina.” Then they left, I have no idea what that means but I’m just happy to be able to enter my room again, though I don’t know if I will because it’s so cold!

So I bundled up as best as I could, and I went back to my room. There it was sitting on my desk, the little whistle I’m working on. Standing right on top where I left it. I grabbed my polish and I got back to work.

Alan Macey

I am a whistle maker working out of Miami. Born from Wisconsin, I have decided to leave my home behind in search of a newer brighter future with much less snow. I have no one to survive me except for my mother and my sister.