Enjoy this short story by Mace Styx.
Taking the end of the handrail, she forced part of the metal clasp into the slit of the door. Then, standing by the buttons she held the length of wood against her chest and pushed on one end to create a lever.
Pushing as hard as she could until, yes, she felt something twitch, the smallest, tiniest flicker of yielding movement from the doors. If she kept pushing, kept trying, the door would give. She tried again, pushing the end with all her might and felt the weight of one of the doors shift. She felt a wave of relief, like a physical sensation washing over her and she exhaled deeply. It would come, she knew, it would come and she would not be trapped. She almost smiled, until she saw the stain.
