Marcus was wearing a black sweatshirt, black pants, black trainers, and a black ski mask. If, somehow, he got caught, he'd just claim to be on his way...to one of the lame-ass "safe parties" dressed as a terrorist. It had worked last year, netting him three grocery bags full of candy extorted from snot-nosed little wimps.Ah, here waddled one now. Awful short one, too. But the tall pointy hat with a wide brim was unmistakable in outline. Some kid's mother had dressed her little darling up as a. . I am calm, let me tell my story please.Anyway, I must have sat there longer than I intended. I was supposed to be concentrating on this travel plan, but somehow, the day just slipped by. It was only when I realised I was hungry that I left the shelter.That's when I saw the little girl again. She had changed now into day clothes. A little printed dress and a pair of those plastic shoes ... cloggies, sloggies, or something like that. She looked pretty and her hair had been done. It was dry and. Standing in his bathroom, having just showered in preparation for this man, I almost came just thinking about it. At the time I thought I was hard from checking myself out in the mirror. I had been doing push-ups and dips to build my chest and arms and it hard worked. Sexy athletic tone, not muscled, not undefined, my chest and arms were just considered bonus viewing while they enjoyed my voracious oral obsession. Then again, I could’ve just been in good shape from all the fucking I did. I had. The edge of the canvas was torn; it hung loosely from the frame.An anguished tear fell as Ginny realised the painting was irreparable. Her best friend, Josh, had given her the painting after she had admired his portrayal of the snow-covered mountains she loved.Ginny dropped the brown paper bag of groceries, bent, then looked at the pouch. It was the most important item in the room. It was empty. The precious treasure it contained had gone.Such a thing had never happened before in the sleepy.