Barring the Door

I stepped through the creaking shed doorway and reached for the thick wooden drop-bar leaning against the wall frame. Setting my machete flat against a weathered cedar post, I gripped the rough timber with both hands. With slow, measured leverage, I lifted the beam and lowered both ends squarely into the forged iron brackets spanning the door. A deep, solid thud echoed off the rafters as the wood settled flush against the jamb. I let out a slow, heavy breath through my mask, pressed the timber once with my palm to ensure it was immovable, and let the quiet dark settle in.