“We don’t want a draft coming up through the kitchen floorboards during breakfast.”

I pushed my feet into my canvas slip-ons without untying them.

I wasn’t wearing socks, only thin cotton knit.

I turned the brass knob on the garage door and pushed it open.

The air in the garage struck my face like a wet sheet.

The place smelled of old lawnmower gas, cold concrete and sawdust.

The wooden door clicked closed behind me, the latch catching with a sharp metallic snap.

The lock turned on the inside.