The padlock peacefully dangled from the door. He tried the key once more, but it was futile. The stubborn lock would not open. He shook the lock gently. Perhaps it was just jammed. The key appeared to be the correct one, but to be certain, Tom tried each of the many keys on his keychain. As he did so, he felt the chilly drop of rain fall on his bare neck. The drops increased steadily, like a drum roll, until he was soaked. Still, the lock would not budge.
His wife certainly knew how to hit his buttons. Did she change the lock without his knowledge? She clearly disapproved his purchase of the motorcycle. If he wasn't late for work, he would've have taken the time to call her.
Finally, he tried the last key on the chain, but the lock remained unopened. Its shiny, reflective surface twinkled and gloated at him victoriously.
Tom's temples pounded and his neck ached.
