A Slapstick Release
A beige wooden wedge doorstop sat smugly wedged beneath the heavy hallway door, pretending to hold the world together. The sheer audacity of passive resistance! I dropped to my knees, wedged the tip of a stiff plastic ruler beneath its bevel, and leaned my entire torso onto the opposite end like a catapult lever. Squeeeak—thwack! The friction gave up the ghost. The door swung shut with a dramatic, hollow boom, while the doorstop skittered six feet across the floorboards like an ejected hockey puck. If a door wants to stay open, it should really hire better security.