I’m not superstitious. I don’t believe in luck. If I did, I wouldn’t be a house robber. Well, not really a robber. I break into old houses, see what I can find, then sell it. It’s not like I’m hurting anyone. It does limit my field of movement however; when my parents live in the same state as me and think that I’m in india with some expensive job. Now, one special night, I had decided to go into the house that i’ve been avoiding all my job : Elwood Mansion. I didn’t go there because of two reasons. Reason 1 : It’s gigantic. If the search takes longer than the night the police might get suspicious when they see a man in all black coming out of an abandoned mansion with a back pack bursting at the seams with ornate objects. Reason 2: If I do
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Afterwards I sold all I had from the box and pretended to move back to california. There, I met a nice girl who I married. We bought a house in as much of the countryside as we could find. It was beautiful. It wore a dress of pure burgundy and had the whitest of trims. The lawn that swept across our 100 acres made our neighbors green with envy. The inside was even more beautiful. Ornate chandeliers hung from every place there was space for them. Everything seemed to be made of either bronze or mahogany. Everything shone brightly, reflecting all light that touched it. We only had a couple rooms, but they were still beautiful. The guest rooms were normal, but our room that me and my wife had shared was so comfortable, so beautiful, so fancy that any other rich person would drop their jaws at how beautiful it was. Our bed was made of purpleheart with gold bits to hold it all together. An elegant canopy hung over it, blessing it with even more beauty. The sheets and blankets were made of pure satin, dyed a dark purple to compliment the wood it sat upon. The pillows were nothing but comfortable as they were made of goose down and the softest silk imaginable. We had a small bookshelf next to it, along with a stool for my wife. She was a bit “Vertically Declined” and had to use it for reading from the top shelf. Across the room was a desk that had my wife’s laptop. Above this, the music box and a couple other trinkets. It was always in constant play. It floated through the hallways, just as it did in the old, decrepit house I found it in. Me and my wife waltzed to it from time to time. Eventually, we stopped dancing together. She and I had drifted apart. I had to keep the music box in tip top condition, which was very hard and took a lot of time to do. You see, the music box kept me young, but on one condition: I kept it running forever. This got arguments started very often. Whenever I was caught with the box, my wife
Afterwards I sold all I had from the box and pretended to move back to california. There, I met a nice girl who I married. We bought a house in as much of the countryside as we could find. It was beautiful. It wore a dress of pure burgundy and had the whitest of trims. The lawn that swept across our 100 acres made our neighbors green with envy. The inside was even more beautiful. Ornate chandeliers hung from every place there was space for them. Everything seemed to be made of either bronze or mahogany. Everything shone brightly, reflecting all light that touched it. We only had a couple rooms, but they were still beautiful. The guest rooms were normal, but our room that me and my wife had shared was so comfortable, so beautiful, so fancy that any other rich person would drop their jaws at how beautiful it was. Our bed was made of purpleheart with gold bits to hold it all together. An elegant canopy hung over it, blessing it with even more beauty. The sheets and blankets were made of pure satin, dyed a dark purple to compliment the wood it sat upon. The pillows were nothing but comfortable as they were made of goose down and the softest silk imaginable. We had a small bookshelf next to it, along with a stool for my wife. She was a bit “Vertically Declined” and had to use it for reading from the top shelf. Across the room was a desk that had my wife’s laptop. Above this, the music box and a couple other trinkets. It was always in constant play. It floated through the hallways, just as it did in the old, decrepit house I found it in. Me and my wife waltzed to it from time to time. Eventually, we stopped dancing together. She and I had drifted apart. I had to keep the music box in tip top condition, which was very hard and took a lot of time to do. You see, the music box kept me young, but on one condition: I kept it running forever. This got arguments started very often. Whenever I was caught with the box, my wife