The padlock dangled, hanging at a crooked angle, gleaming in the soft light of the half-burned candle. It mocked her as if to say, "You cannot escape- no matter how hard you try..."

The pencil, also gleaming, lay by the pristine sheet of paper, unmarked, unmarred by any marks of lead. She grimaced, shook her head, trying in vain to break her trance. She rubbed her tired eyes and yet, still nothing came into her aching head. Even locking herself in couldn't break the spell. Writer's block once again, had reared its ugly head.