This is part three of a short story. To get the story so far see part one (Left out in the cold and part two (Outside).

He walked towards the door. He had to see, it could have just blown shut he thought. He walked forwards and pulled the door. He thought he felt it move for just a second but then nothing. It was secured.

He turned away and looked across what he remembered had once been a rose garden but now was just a completely plain white vista that stretched on as far as he could see. The buildings behind him were the only identifiable thing he could see.

He knew exactly where he was and yet he was lost. He wanted to shed a tear but he knew it would instantly freeze and would cause him more troubles than it caused. Instead he gulped down on the air, and regretted it instantly as the freezing vapour entered deep within his lungs.

He looked longingly towards the old school. It looked abandoned rather than thriving with all of the windows boarded up like that. If only there was a way for them to see him he thought.

And then it hit him. In the dining hall there was a giant glass window that was left. Years ago they had seen wildlife despite the snow. Polar bears and rabbits and so on but now even they had migrated further south. The temperatures being too cold even for them. Right now he couldn’t help wondering why hadn’t he.

A stupid thought though. It was still too cold for him to survive down there. It just would have taken longer to die. He had to concentrate. No time for stupid thoughts like that. If he could get to that window he could make it.

He stumbled forward. He hadn’t quite realised how far away the dining hall was from the door but he supposed it was all a question of diameter versus circomfrence. It was very different to be walking inside a shape than all the way around it. He kept his mind active by trying to do the retevent maths in his head.

After twenty minutes he was cold and tired and not nearly far enough around. He was finding it more and more difficult to put one foot in front of the other. Soon enough he stopped. And after a second he fell to the floor.

As he lay there he remembered a common room meeting twenty years ago. There was a big debate and then it was decided that the lock should be removed from the door. There was no point because there were no burglars. But they had worried that somebody might accidentally get locked out. In fact he had recently thought about adding a lock to stop the students from getting out but hadn’t for just this very reason. Such a fool why hadn’t he remembered this before. His left cheek was starting to get wet from the snow he was lying on. So why couldn’t he open the door? They must have been on the other side holding it closed.

What was it? Richeous indignation? Or just having been a teacher this long? Whatever it was the rage that bubbled up inside him, and more than that the desire to tell the students off awoke in him an energy he didn’t know he had.

He leapt off of the ground, dusted himself off and started almost running towards what he now knew was an unlocked door.

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