A Slotted Keyway

The quiet inside pushed me back outside... toward the sunlit pavers by the iron gate. Resting tilted against the gray stone, a flat brass padlock key lay beside a discarded square steel washer. I paused beneath the gate's shadow, studying the cold perpendicular silhouettes. Stepping forward on soft stubby feet, I eased my flat chin against the key's notched tip. Slow, patient nudges... guiding the straight brass stem forward until it slid cleanly through the washer's hollow center hole. A sudden dry metallic clink chimed against the flagstone. My four legs stiffened instantly... breath held tight, waiting until the vibration dissolved into the still midday air.