She lowers her heavy backpack onto the ground outside the window, swift but silent. Her ears prick up at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. She pours herself out the window and eases it closed again. It clicks into place as the front door clicks open. She allows herself a brief smile before hoisting the pack up onto her back and heading off at speed down the alley.
He peers in through the window, the wool of his mask pressing against the glass. The lights are off; the house is empty. He clicks open the window, tosses his backpack in, then jumps in after it. He scouts around the house to make sure: he is first. He smiles. He drags his bag with him towards the bedroom. He will prepare a surprise for her. He hopes she will like it. He dips a gloved hand into the pack.
She pulls off her mask and gloves as she rounds the corner, pushes them into her pockets. She grunts, readjusting the straps again. A good haul in quantity if not quality. She wonders if he fared any better. The bag squirms on her back. She picks up her pace.
He smells her coming and he bounds towards the door to greet her. She opens the door and chops him hard on the nose. She was not expecting anyone to be standing there, with the lights off, in a mask and gloves. She apologises and helps him up off the floor. He assures her that he thinks the nose is not broken, despite the amount of blood. He takes off his soaked mask, she turns on a light. He is smiling like a loon, she is frowning.
Keeping one hand on his nose, he uses the other to pull her down the corridor to the bedroom. She sees the surprise he has prepared for her. A fresh kitten. She thanks him, but says she is confused by the money. He says he saw it in a movie once. She removes her pack, kneels down, shows him her night’s work. A puppy. A fancy rat. A box of frogs. They pull them out and toss them on the bed. He says it is a magnificent feast. They close their eyes, concentrate, and the constraining human shells drop to the floor. They dine.