CHAPTER: 7 (PRT 3)Mature

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    I let the number burn into my mind as I stepped into the street between me and Weset Hall. The failing sun painted the grass before the residence building in emerald green where shadows couldn’t obscure it. By the entrance, the emerald blanket dipped down into a lazy but profound ditch, cast in yet more shadow by the wide bridge watching over it and anything that may seek its shelter.

    The bridge-too-was gilded in soft, wheat-yellow rays that playfully wavered from intricately crafted lamps hugging the sidewalk behind me and both sides of the bridge before me. The same lampposts as on the quad park, I realized.

    The foyer was manned by two supervisors. Neither needed much assurance on my part to stay out of my way. Love can be a distracting thing – or lust – I don’t much care. I left the two to their embrace, moving toward the nearest flight up.

    Art never catered to me explicitly. If there were ever an inkling of interest toward it, my pursuit of the humanity would be to extinguish monotony, obviously. Monotony be damned. I reminded myself this as I came to stand in a monotonous passage of dorm room doors. The inhumane design was countered only by the difference of small rounded room numbers on the rich redwood that blocked my way into 337.

    A beautifully simplistic but stylish panel hugged the doorknob, demanding I submit to it. ‘I’m your only way in’, it mocked me, ‘swipe your card Alex’.

    Like George, I guess I don’t take too well to cues. Instead I set my sight on an archaic prospect. People tend to grow ignorant of the details behind monotonous actions. An example. Keycards don’t open doors, neither do keys. No matter how many fancy types of keys there are, none of them open doors they are made for.

    You open them yourself, they just turn the latch.

    So without a key, all that stops you is the latch. It only gets more interesting when you’re blocked by a door with several ways to turn the latch, and there being only one latch in need of turning.

    The keypad felt cheated as I noted the keyhole in the knob, and got out my tools…

The End

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