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The Shed
Chapter 8: Easy as Taking a Diaper from a Baby

Chapter 8: Easy as Taking a Diaper from a Baby

I grab up my duds on the way out. The black duds coat. Black like the night so I don’t get all spotted out there by passers by.

Before I close the door to my apartment, I gaze back for another look and think that I like my place and why am I always leaving it? I close the door and double check to make sure the door is locked all the way so I don’t come back and have to wonder if someone is hiding in my closet, or using my toothbrush, or something nasty of that nature. I huff on down the block and it’s gotten a might chilly since I was out here last. It was almost nice out when I went out before. Nice and breezy with the things on the sidewalk breezin’ all around.

I put up my collar and stuff my hands in my pockets. I feel something in one of them, and I pull it out. It’s a candy wrapper. Twix. It’s dark out, but not that dark. I can see the golden sheen of the crinkly plastic with some red thrown in for good measure. I don’t eat Twix. Where did this Twix rapper come from. I think back all the way and I don’t even remember the last time I ate a chocolate thing. Candy thing.

This coat has been hanging in my closet for a good long time. I haven’t ever stuffed garbage in one of the pockets before. I need to remember to follow up on this. I don’t have the time right now. I put the wrapper back in my pocket and give it a zip. I’ll have a close look at it later.

I’m getting there. I can see the outline of the Mouth’s welcome mat and the blocky letters inside the beige rectangle. That welcome font. Why does welcome only ever come in one font? I edge closer to the door, looking at the peeper hole for a light coming through. A light inside will show through, don’t ya know.

I don’t see a light in the hole, and I try to angle myself to catch a look at the sides of the blinds, but there’s no light coming from there either. Bingo. Either this man is asleep, or he’s out roamin’ the countryside, looking for another shed maybe. Or could be he’s stuck in the basement of the business building, stuck right through the floor when the helicopters dropped it on the lot. I picture him sliding right through the concrete like a slick weasel through a thick bush. That man probably can’t even die.

I’m right in front of the door now, contemplating a knock. I don’t knock. I slide the welcome mat around with my foot again, to check for metal sound. You know what that means already. I already told you. The metal sound is there and that’s good. No changes since the last time. I look around, not suspiciously. Curiously. Look at that! I think. What a cool road! Nothing reads on my face that’s suspicious. nobody can tell I’m suspicious because I’m interested in that road. Not the key under the mat under my foot.

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I pretend to drop something. Whoops! Butterfingers! I slap my head, stooping quick and sliding my hand under the mat, snagging the key. Easy as taking a diaper from a baby. Mine. Now I’m acting like this is my house. Just here to open my door with my key, like always. nothing to see here. I stick the key in the doorknob and twist it like I own it. Because I do. This is my house, remember? The key turns, the knob turns, the door opens, and I’m inside. I shut the door quietly and lock it again. That way I can hear if someone is rustling with their own key while I’m in here. Give me some time if I need it. I stand there at the entryway, getting the lay of the land. I sniff, and I listen, and I dart my eyes to the left and the right real quick. That makes you kind of see in the dark. Peripherals. Look it up.

There’s the usual black blobs in darkness that’s furniture. Everyone has something to sit on. Not having something to sit on will drive you crazy. You’ll get so you even crave sitting on your own toilet just to rest. Standing and leaning on things can get tiring. Even this man has something to sit on. That’s good to know.

I’ve taken in enough info now. Next step, carousing through the house.

Heel down, then toe. Look it up. That’s how ninjas walk. Or I also hear that they set their hands down on the ground and step on them to make walking even quieter. Why not just take off your shoes and socks? Same thing. Heel toe. That’s the way to go.

Something kicks on, but I’m not startled. I know what things are supposed to sound like. You’ve never heard a refrigerator turn on before? you should try it some time. It sounds spooky unless you know what the sound is. And I do. I know what everything in a house sounds like. I’ve been in my house for a while, taking notes. My foot bonks into something. There’s some give to it, but also I can tell it’s made out of wood and is small. What’s small that’s made of wood that goes on the floor? Footstool. That’s a footstool.

I sidestep it and keep walking deeper into the apartment. There’s the usual smell of the inside of a small place that people fill with cooking smoke and crumbs. Stinky socks on the carpet. Getting the smell ground into it. Just because you take your shoes off when you get inside doesn’t mean your feet aren’t a mess inside your shoes. Get some inside slippers. That’s what I have. I can smell it, the inside smell, but that’s normal. Everyone’s house has a smell that’s puts people off when they first come inside. It’s natural.