The proximity of the voices rendered him immobile. They weren’t supposed to be there. He had planned things out so carefully, spent hours watching the house and days trailing their every move. He had even gone so far as to insinuate himself into their life to eliminate surprise just like this one. They spoke now in harsh whispers as though they thought the walls had ears—if only they really knew. The shuffling of their feet moving closer to his hiding spot caused the hairs on his arms and neck to stand on end. He did his best to quiet his breathing fearing the slightest intake of breath might give him away. He had been so focused on staying unnoticed he almost missed the tenor of the conversation. While he had come here to rob and pilfer, their words were a gem he could live off of for years. A smile pierced his lips as he pulled out his phone and began recording the discussion. Dollar signs flashed before his eyes as they spoke of retribution in the form of murder. When they finally left, he stepped out of his hiding spot and looked around contemplating leaving while the coast was clear. With a shrug he thought to himself, why not, and began to forage for valuables.
i decided once again to steer away from poetry for this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>immobile, proximity, retribution]. i must admit, while i do it infrequently, i enjoy flexing my non-poetic muscles.