13 Heros: © 2018 RD Girvan
What he doesn’t want is to get caught. Last Halloween he had almost been caught – that had been no fun, no fun at all. It was supposed to be “trick or treat,” not “trick, treat and trial.”
He tapped powder into the last of the tubes and added it to the bouquet of pixie sticks that bristled out of the grinning plastic pumpkin. He cleaned up, careful not to breathe in any of the residue.
Dominic worked through his departure checklist, wiping down the last few surfaces he may have touched, loading his gear, crossing through the garage/kitchen door repeatedly, the heavy whump-sigh of the pneumatic door punctuating his work. He triple-checked the house for personal belongings, then peeled off the plastic gloves that had come in the box of hair dye.
He looked around one last time. He would miss this house, he thought. It had been a good 12 months, living here. The neighbourhood met his requirements perfectly: a nice little suburb with nice little houses full of tame, nice little “sheeple.” All with easy access to a major Interstate Highway, so within 8 minutes, Dominic could be heading anywhere. Unless he was caught, of course.
Hello, Gang of Glorious Readers, Rhea here.
I am entering stories into contests, some of which do not allow any publication of any kind, even on a baby blog like mine. So if you would like to read the entire story, send me your email address and I will forward it to you.
Best always, RDG