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The Shed Door
Ellen wanted the shed door shut before the wind put it into the bicycle. She had left the bike just inside, and the door was already swinging that way. She caught the wood with both hands. The wind leaned on the other side and would not let the gap close.
The path was loud. A plastic bucket rolled, touched her shoe, and stopped. She needed a heavy thing for the bottom of the door, and both hands were busy holding it. If she let go, the door would swing again. She could see the bicycle wheel, close to the edge, bright against the dark inside the shed.
Her fingers were already sore. The wind was not one steady push. It came, eased, and came again, and each time the door felt heavier. Ellen could hold it. She could not hold it and bend down at the same time.