310. You can't be too careful
© Bruce Goodman 16 August 2014
Jenna sat at the computer in the little sun room just to the side of the lounge. It was her office; her haven of peace.
Suddenly, the front door, which was open, slammed. Jenna got a fright with the sudden noise. Her mind shifted back to the work on her computer.
She continued to type. Then she thought, “That’s funny. There’s no wind.” She went to check the door.
The television in the lounge had gone. The kettle and toaster from the kitchen had gone. In fact, all her electrical appliances had gone, even the digital alarm clock next to her bed. The cordless phone had gone. Her cell phone, on the lounge coffee table, had disappeared. It was only eleven in the morning.
Jenna felt dirty, abused, horrible. That was worse than all the missing things. Someone had been in her house, just feet away from where she sat.
She went to Jock the neighbour’s to ask to use his phone. He was a nice person; always friendly and helpful. He was just locking up the back of his carrier truck. Jenna warned him about the burglary.
“Thanks,” he said. “You can’t be too careful.”