Landon pushed on the meat chest door in his garage again; much, much harder this time with no more success than he had with his previous attempts. “This shit has to stop!” He thought to himself as he plopped all of his weight onto the door again hoping that it might bear a better outcome, but this only resulted in more frustration.
He hopped off of the meat chest and frantically scanned his cluttered garage, looking for anything that might help his cause. His eyes swayed quickly past his battered ’82 Ford Tempo. It was light blue, but he swore to anyone who asked it was, an exotic shade of aqua marine. The stick of margarine he had left on the passenger seat from the previous week, was all but recognizable anymore. The Blue Bonnet logo swimming atop the oily slick on the torn black vinyl seat. Most of the liquid had already made a new home in the tears and cigarette burns that riddled the upholstery. “I should dab that out one day.” He thought.
Landon knew that he had been freezing too many things. Most of the batteries he had in there were likely useless anyway, but he couldn’t bring himself to put them out on the curb. He gazed back at the contents of the garage, this time at the storage area above the ceiling.