The Cast Iron Latch/the shape buddy story 6

I pushed through the low screen door into the morning air and stepped down beneath the wooden slats of the back porch. Here, damp soil and deep shadows gathered out of reach of the sun. Resting on an overturned wooden crate was an old, rusted iron gate latch. I stepped forward deliberately, lifting one heavy boot onto the edge of the crate. Raising one blade, I pressed the cold metal tip against the latch bar, slowly levering it upward until the rusty hinge groaned and dropped free with a dull clank into the dirt.#MichaelMyers #Halloweenkills #Neca