a scene, part i

The light shone strangely into the dark study, not quite through the open window through which no breeze stirred. Its shadows crept too eagerly over the desk, the chair, the books - too intimately did they clutch at the bare legs of the bowed, shrunken figure lurking in the doorway, fumbling for the switch.

A shadow with a shaky, husky voice loudly, derisively broke into the soft intimacy of the scene: "What is it now? It's the middle of the night, and here you are wandering about the house without any clothes on! It won't be any wonder if you catch cold - why don't you get back to bed? Your clattering's making it tough to sleep!"

"H-h-he stole my PANTS!" wheezed the emaciated wrinkle back at his wife, "we should call the police!"

"Dear, dear, now you're having delusions. Nobody stole anything, and I can't for the life of me guess at what you think you've been up to. Now stop fooling around and get back into bed!"

Just then, with cartoon-like fluidity and exaggeration a silhouette stalked stealthily across the dark corners of the room, carrying a dark bundle over his shoulder and then disappearing as the oblivious elderly couple busied themselves with returning to the corridor.