The gate closed behind them with a soft click. They crept along the grass, still wet from the afternoon rain, to the french doors. No lights were lit on this side of the house.
They stopped at the door and reached for the knob.
"He was supposed to leave it unlocked," one voice said behind a ski mask.
"Try the other one," another ski mask said.
The other knob turned and the door swung open, into an office. One wall was an inset bookshelf. And the second ski mask whispered she'd always wanted one of those.
"Marry a doctor, like she did," the first ski mask said.
They tiptoed out into the hallway, polished wood floors reflecting the moonlight. They kept along the wall to avoid any creaks. Then into the carpeted living room and they relaxed a little.Up the stairs to the second bedroom on the right.
The door was ajar, and a bedside lamp on, but they heard faint snores so they stole inside.
The two ski masks shook the sleeping woman awake and
I think this site is like a power juicer to the armadillo-skinned oranges of writer's block.
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