A Leap for the Latch

I swung out from the key bowl's braided lanyard, kicking off the bench edge to grab the lower turn of the metal deadbolt. Heavy brass, cold to the touch. Hanging by one hand, I used my gauntlet to brace against the lock cylinder and kicked my boots up onto the brass door handle. My weight barely budged the lever down a fraction of an inch—it definitely needs a full turn or a serious push to click open. Still, perched right on the brass lever, I can hear footsteps echoing in the hallway outside. Next time someone cracks it open, I'm ready.