You press the remote from the driveway and hear the motor hum overhead, a steady drone with no movement behind it. The door stays shut.
The chain hangs in a loop under the rail and slaps against it on every cycle. It used to sit snug.
The door used to glide up with a soft hum. Now there is a sharp clack every second or so, and if you stand underneath you can see the belt sagging below the rail and slapping it on the way up.
Press the button and the motor hums, but the door stays exactly where it is. Under the housing there is a dusting of white plastic shavings, the sign of a stripped drive gear, and this is the second time it has happened.
On bright mornings the door will not close, then by lunchtime it behaves itself. The garage faces the low sun, and the light reaches straight across the floor to one of the little black sensors.
Someone in the family tried to add a remote, held the button on the ceiling unit a little too long, and now every remote in the house is dead at once. The wall control still moves the door.
It is February. You come down in the morning and the garage door has stood open all night; the car is frosted inside, the furnace has run without a pause, and the pipe in the shared wall is your first worry.
Your garage is detached and has no side door. The remote is dead, the keypad is dead, and the small round lock in the top panel is meant to be your way in.