Christmas has come and gone, and I’m feeling barely aware that it was here, and I admit that I’m feeling a touch “down,” and disappointed in myself. Don’t let it worry you, I’m sure I’ll be over it soon.
This is a strange story that was inspired by a simple sentence, that I held onto for years until I could figure out how to make it work as a story. Until now.
It’s weird, isn’t it?
I’m a normal guy. Well, mostly normal. I like sports, and beer, and gadgets. I’m living the cliche.
Granted, I don’t tend to tell people about my “work,” which is usually only normal for secret agents. Or people in my field. My field’s not exactly socially acceptable. No, I’m not a garbage man or an undertaker or anything like that. Geesh. I’m a simple honorable thief.
Yeah, I know. I should stop.
But, it’s hard to get a job in this economy. It’s not like I can list skills like “fencing goods,” “stealth” or “lighting fast appraisal” on most resumes. I have very little in the way of job history, and my references are not exactly what anyone would consider ideal. I mean, I don’t even know what “Stumpy’s” real name is, and I ain’t asking.
It’s not a terrible life. I don’t have to put up with performance reviews, or uncomfortable polyester uniforms, or TPS reports. Nope. None of that. Sure, the threat of jail is a bit loomy, but, that’s not that big a risk if you’re careful.
So, why do I maunder on a Saturday night, shuffling down an empty street, looking like the saddest sad sack that ever blew down a street?
I can’t even believe it myself. I don’t know what it is about that girl. I mean, she was pretty, that’s part of it, sure. It’s more than that, though. There’s that dimple, and the way she laughs, and all those cliches. I’d never thought I’d have been susceptable to all that stuff.
Maybe it’s more the way she was with those kids. I don’t even like kids. They’re not even her kids, it’s just a job, but, she protected them, and they trusted her. They’re good kids too. Polite. They stayed calm the whole time I was there.
Look, I didn’t know anyone was still in the house. They are rich, and were supposed to be on vacation. I didn’t expect to find the kids and the nanny playing hide and seek in a dark house, when they were SUPPOSED to be on vacation.
I didn’t even steal anything from there. I couldn’t. I lost the will to take stuff. I’ve turned into a fool. A fool who wants a different life. A life where people cared about you, and where you had regular meals, and people who looked up to you, and treated you like something other than garbage.
It’s a fantasy world, but it had given me cravings that I can not ignore. How can I continue my life of crime with this gnawing emptiness consuming my thoughts? How did I get infected with the idea that I could have a happy life? What thief suddenly has dreams of being a nanny?
I told you it was a peculiar idea.
maunder / MON – der / to wander slowly and idly 2. to speak indistinctly or disconnectedly.