The thud of the door slamming shut with a resounding finality pulls his attention away from the cracks in the stained glass window he'd been studying as a placeholder until he could be alone again. He watches the guy struggle against the heavy slab of wood, then walks back up the aisle to help him. Surely two more twiggy arms will do the trick.

The door doesn't budge.

"What the fuck?" he mutters under his breath, shaking the stubborn handle. He looks for a latch, some kind of lock that might have gotten jammed, but finds nothing. The door is, for no apparent reason, stuck fast.

Giving up, he kicks the door as if to inflict a wound on its impassive pride. He lets out a sigh and scrubs a hand through his hair.

"Maybe someone else will come by, and they can open it from the outside."