Morning all, let’s get today’s writing prompt started. Are you ready? Good timers at fifteen minutes and let’s go!
Monday, October 3rd: The floorboards protested the slightest movements.
The floorboards protested the slightest movements. There would be no sneaking across this floor and I knew it. I stopped and waited. My eyes had long since adjusted to the dim light of the room. I knew I could more around with relative ease.
‘If it weren’t for the floorboards.’
I scanned the room taking my time, peering into the shadows. Maybe what I was looking for wasn’t here. There was little furniture in the room. A bed with a night stand to each side. There was no closet and garments hung on a metal rack wheeled into the corner.
I thought of what I knew of the box. My employer had been reluctant to offer up details. Only the fact that I couldn’t steal what I couldn’t identify made him willing to part with even the most basic of descriptors. I was looking for a box made of dark polished wood with brass fittings. I would be able to see the latch and the hinges. The box was polished to a high gloss but had no markings on it. It was a six inch cube and heavy for its size.
Those were the only details he would part with. It was enough for a visual identification, but it didn’t tell me all that much about what might be inside or what was so valuable about the box or it’s contents. My skills didn’t come cheap. I thought about turning it down but I was under contract. Any job my employer wanted me to take I took at least until the contract was complete. For me, that day couldn’t come soon enough.
He decided I should take the job so despite my misgivings, I took the job. I pushed such thoughts to the side and looked throughout the room again. The night stands were the sort with out drawers and lamps took up the surface of them for the most part so I knew they couldn’t be hiding the box. There were no decorative pillows on the bed. It was a simple sheet pulled over the mattress with a pillow at the top. A folded blanket lay across the bottom of the bed. I squatted down and looked beneath. There was no dust ruffle to hide anything hidden under the bed so I could see underneath and straight through to the wall. The rack holding the clothes was a simple one made of metal poles fixed together. It concealed nothing and there weren’t enough clothes on the rack for anything to be hidden behind.
The room itself was a bust. I would not have to risk my presence being revealed by the floorboards. I backed away from the doorway, careful to keep my feet on the support beams, stepping only over the nails holding the boards to the beams so that I could reduce the possibility of being heard. I glided down the hallway looking for any place where something could be hidden.
The hall was bare. There were pictures on the wall but they had thin modern frames. Perhaps if I found nothing elsewhere I would come back and look for a hidden safe behind them, but for now I left the frames alone. There was another bedroom next to the first and it was similarly equipped. The garments hanging on the shelves were different and this bedroom had curtains. They were open but as the window faced the brisk wall of the building next door it wasn’t a helpful view.
The owners were out of the house for the week or so I had been told. I imagined that they were pleased to get away. This house had a depressing feel to it. It seemed to be paired back to the bare essentials with nothing left over.
‘Maybe they took the extras with them.’
Despite the house being empty I took my time and moved as silent as possible. I entered from the roof, slipping in unnoticed through the attic window. Technically I was a day ahead of schedule. I told the others I would be going into the house tomorrow. I don’t know why I lied, but it seemed like the right thing to do and I knew to trust my instincts. Downstairs I heard the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. It opened and then closed. I heard two sets of footsteps, the intruders trying to be quiet. The owners had not returned early.
Ten til Midnight 