With cap purposely pulled low, Bruno only slowed his pace on nearing his destination, but the drawn drapes of the living room was a disappointment. As he began to walk to the nearest intersection, he glanced back, to ensure no one was looking from the behind the drapes.
Crossing Beacon Street he returned in the same direction he had travelled, to stand at the bottom of building’s steps. A slither of light casting between the closed drapes and pelmet was the only evidence of possible occupants.
I have to try the key. For his plan to succeed Bruno knew the importance of the key’s success. He was fully aware of his footprints on the snow-covered steps being a testament to his arrival, but they would be temporary. The snow, and the wind, would guarantee their briefness.
He watched as the key slid slowly into the orifice of the lock, then his glove-covered hand come to an abrupt stop. “Fuck!” he said quietly, as his hand began its twisting motion. A pang of relief surged through his body. ”It fuckin’ works! I hope they can’t hear me?” The words were just audible. With the unlocked door held closed, he waited.
Satisfied, he removed his new friend quietly from the lock.