Remembering that woman -- She's in there!
Crawling, reaching, your hand finds the door. Smooth cool metal. Tracing the crack, the light shows your finger-tip -- shows the light is real. Although your hands burn like they'll never work properly again, you bang bang bang the door -- "Hey in there! -- Hello!"
Stopping -- but hearing only your coughing.
"Hey! -- Hello!"
Hands braile the debris blocking the door. Timbers. Stabbing little nails sticking out of slablike somethings that perhaps you couldn't even budge.
"I know you're in there! The door's blocked! Maybe half the ceiling's blocking it! You're gonna need my help getting outta there! -- We're gonna need each other!"
Coughing -- because your ribs feel like someone's sitting on them -- you're finished being reasonable -- "Say something --Idiot!"
The woman behind the door pretends she isn't home. You cannot get in. You make it noisily evident that you are piling more debris against the door.
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