Clearance on Mailbox Four

I pushed past the heavy ground-floor fire door and found myself in the silent, tiled lobby just as the night security bulbs flickered on. Straight ahead, the wall of brass mailboxes was glowing like miniature city vaults. But box forty-two had a paper delivery flyer jammed crookedly in the bottom slot, sticking out like a diving board and completely blocking the keyhole below! If someone shoved their key in blind, they'd tear the paper or jam the lock, right? I tucked my fabric mask securely under my arm, scaled the brass lip using the raised apartment numerals for grip, and grabbed the slick paper corner with both hands. I gave two sharp, calculated yanks. The flyer snapped cleanly free with a crisp flutter, sliding neatly onto the parcel shelf below. Night shift in the lobby, officially secure.