TheKookroach
Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 14, 2012
- Posts
- 46
His grandfather would have been proud. The old man had lived by the saying, Keep an ear to the ground and an eye on the horizon. Taylor had had no idea what that meant as a kid, but when he reached his teens and, now, his mid twenties, and chose burglary as his vocation, he knew it meant listen, look, and ye shall prosper.
He been hanging out at a bar where the local alarm installation technicians hung out for Happy Hour for months, sitting in a corner booth where the places acoustics seemed to let him listen in on just about every thing being said in the place, no matter the volume it had been spoken in.
Which had led him to the big house at the end of a long driveway, which itself was at the end of a long road. The techs Taylor had d been listening in on the past couple of days said the house had been burglarized twice already this year.
The home owner still had lots of valuables, one of the tech had said, and he'd tried to talk the woman -- who Taylor mistakenly heard was 64 -- into an expensive, high-tech system. But the man had only been able to talk the spend thrift into buying a run-of-the-mill alarm system, one that Taylor knew very well how to get around.
While the three men chatted and drank tonight, Taylor broke into their truck and stole the clipboard with the orders on it, along with other things to cover his true intent. And using his smart phone's mapping program, he figured out which of the four current orders was the house in question.
It was all too easy, he thought, as he evaded the motion detectors in the yard and bypassed the alarm on the window. He was inside the house and gathering jewelry and small antique knickknacks in less than three minutes. Even in the low light of the hall way light the woman left on, Taylor could get a good view of the home. It was, indeed, an old woman's house, with a knitting bag in the seat of an old rocking chair and walls full of photographs covering the ages.
Taylor hesitated for a moment at one of the photo, a large shot of a large family. His eyes were drawn to a ravishing beauty who must have been the home owners granddaughter, possibly even great-granddaughter, he thought. He thought other things as well, as how he'd like to be taking her in his bag of goodies.
He found another picture -- this one just of the old woman and the beauty -- and he snatched it, adding it to his loot. He'd be with her in his apartment later, he thought, smirking.
He headed back out the way he came, dropping the bag quietly to the ground outside the window and lowering his legs out first. That was when the heavy window came loose and dropped suddenly, catching him across the waist and pinning him as the window pane broke and the glass crashed to the hard wood floor, tinkling all about.
Panic set in when Taylor realized he couldn't get his hands around to lift the window frame off his body; he was trapped, half in and half out of the home. And to make things worse, a little dog -- that had never been mentioned by the techs and which would have deterred Taylor if he'd known about it -- suddenly came out of no where and was standing before him yapping like a mad man.
When the light came on in the room, Taylor got his next surprise. The home owner wasn't the old woman in the photograph; it was the ravishing beauty he'd fantasized about fucking ... and she was carrying a very mean looking shotgun.
He been hanging out at a bar where the local alarm installation technicians hung out for Happy Hour for months, sitting in a corner booth where the places acoustics seemed to let him listen in on just about every thing being said in the place, no matter the volume it had been spoken in.
Which had led him to the big house at the end of a long driveway, which itself was at the end of a long road. The techs Taylor had d been listening in on the past couple of days said the house had been burglarized twice already this year.
The home owner still had lots of valuables, one of the tech had said, and he'd tried to talk the woman -- who Taylor mistakenly heard was 64 -- into an expensive, high-tech system. But the man had only been able to talk the spend thrift into buying a run-of-the-mill alarm system, one that Taylor knew very well how to get around.
While the three men chatted and drank tonight, Taylor broke into their truck and stole the clipboard with the orders on it, along with other things to cover his true intent. And using his smart phone's mapping program, he figured out which of the four current orders was the house in question.
It was all too easy, he thought, as he evaded the motion detectors in the yard and bypassed the alarm on the window. He was inside the house and gathering jewelry and small antique knickknacks in less than three minutes. Even in the low light of the hall way light the woman left on, Taylor could get a good view of the home. It was, indeed, an old woman's house, with a knitting bag in the seat of an old rocking chair and walls full of photographs covering the ages.
Taylor hesitated for a moment at one of the photo, a large shot of a large family. His eyes were drawn to a ravishing beauty who must have been the home owners granddaughter, possibly even great-granddaughter, he thought. He thought other things as well, as how he'd like to be taking her in his bag of goodies.
He found another picture -- this one just of the old woman and the beauty -- and he snatched it, adding it to his loot. He'd be with her in his apartment later, he thought, smirking.
He headed back out the way he came, dropping the bag quietly to the ground outside the window and lowering his legs out first. That was when the heavy window came loose and dropped suddenly, catching him across the waist and pinning him as the window pane broke and the glass crashed to the hard wood floor, tinkling all about.
Panic set in when Taylor realized he couldn't get his hands around to lift the window frame off his body; he was trapped, half in and half out of the home. And to make things worse, a little dog -- that had never been mentioned by the techs and which would have deterred Taylor if he'd known about it -- suddenly came out of no where and was standing before him yapping like a mad man.
When the light came on in the room, Taylor got his next surprise. The home owner wasn't the old woman in the photograph; it was the ravishing beauty he'd fantasized about fucking ... and she was carrying a very mean looking shotgun.
