Securing the Lock

A brass padlock hung unfastened through the wire latch of an empty parcel bin, swaying loosely in the draft. Flimsy neglect. I vaulted onto the cold metal wire, striding to the open hasp. Gripping the curved steel shackle with both gloved hands, I braced my boots against the mesh frame and hauled downward with unyielding force. The spring fought back, then snapped into the cylinder with a sharp, echoing clack. The chamber is sealed shut. Order belongs to those who enforce it.