The Key

I could see him as I crept through the door. He was sleeping, his head falling to one side, his chin hanging idly, a small bridge of drool stretching to his shoulder. He sat locked in the tiny office, like a small fish inside a very big pond. I could see the key behind his head, dangling from its rusty nail. He'd left the door wide open and I felt a part of me relax for just a moment. It seemed this wasn't going to be as hard as I first thought.