The Unlucky Burglar
This story was inspired by the idea of what would happen if someone broke into my house. It was dark that moonless night and the wind bit at his skin. Mookie was lost again. Typical. He had a map, he’d used his GPS, but from where he was standing, every single house looked the same. Red brick. White Shutters. Blue garage doors. Welcome to the vanilla suburbs, he thought to himself. He was on a mission that night and needed to keep moving if he was going to accomplish anything before sunrise. Mookie looked at his stylish watch (it was a Ralex, a fake) and it declared the time as 01:34 AM. “Where is this damn place,” he muttered under his breath. Mookie was not a small man. He was six foot six and 280 pounds, his blood type was beef gravy. He checked the map again. The address he had been given was 1234 Rolling Road. He was on Rolling Road, but he couldn’t find 1234 anywhere. This wasn’t even his heist, or his first heist for that matter. He had sworn off h