Ken had been struggling with the key for several minutes. The metal door and lock were very old and a patch of rust had accumulated around the keyhole. He wiped the sweat away from his eyes and scraped at the rust again with his screwdriver. He tried the key once more. Finally the blockage gave way and the key slid in with a loud click.
He had to press hard to get the key to turn at all. It felt as though it were going to break off in the lock, but the inertia within the lock slowly relented and the key turned. Once the lock released he tugged at the door and it opened with an audible gust. The air within was stagnant and musty.
"Finally!" He took a swig from his water bottle and placed his tools back in his belt. Ken returned quickly to his truck to get a flashlight and double check the paperwork for the site: #PDOTA13 Tertiary Water Interchange under South Highway Fourteen and Old Mason road bridge. The commission director wanted an inventory of all the older pump sites in the county before funding could be approved for the new waterworks construction next year. Everyone in site management was working extra shifts until all the pump sites had been checked and cataloged. This particular interchange was the oldest on his list: it had not been accessed in over seven years. He clipped his flashlight onto his belt and pocketed a filter face mask just in case the air was worse inside. Clipboard under one arm, he returned to the door.
Here's a recent quick emotional graphite sketch. I wanted to do something more with this piece, but it never expanded beyond this simple image.
The day had started overcast and temperate, but a heavy wind had blown in from the west around lunchtime. The trees shook and swayed all afternoon as the cold air had settled in. By evening, the sky was mostly clear except for a thicket of clouds to the north. Now the last vestiges of clouds struggled to maintain their forms against the harsh cold gusts. Glen watched several smaller puffs just above the horizon dissipate as they slid across the sky. The sun had begun to set, but he had one more task before heading back to the house. He turned his Jeep onto the dirt road that led to the north ridge pasture.
A quick note to let you know that I've just uploaded a fresh set of links to the Writing gallery. I have also added several new sections: Short Stories, World Building, and Poetry. Check it out and let me know what you think!
Thrones of control
Here's one of my all time favorite Marvel Comics characters, Cloak. Though generally inseparable from his partner, Dagger, I always like it when they present the occasional one off Cloak on his own story. Although the surface gist of his powers is cool, I've always enjoyed the underlying supernatural quality to his abilities. Also for superhero drama, what's more dramatic than a giant shadow filled cloak that blows around in the wind all the time and sucks you into a shadow dimension?
Here's a quick sketch with some Kirby crackles, a strange alien, and a hand study.
Ken had been struggling with the key for several minutes. The metal door and lock were very old and a patch of rust had accumulated around the keyhole. He wiped the sweat away from his eyes and scraped at the rust again with his screwdriver. He tried the key once more. Finally the blockage gave way and the key slid in with a loud click. 
Old roles, emptied of potency,
