Jul. 4th, 2003

decadent_david: (Skeptical)
[Events follow this discussion with Bernard.]

David's lock picking tools were in their usual place, the slim rods of flexible metal easily tucked away in the stiff ribbon inside the brim of his favorite hat. He'd been keeping them atop his head since his college days, having learned through experience that no one ever checked a hat very carefully during a search.

The address on the brick building matched the one Bernard had written on the scrap of paper David held in his hand. Elizabeth Anne L’Ittere lived here, on the second floor. It was a few moments past sunset as David took a seat on a sidewalk bench across the street. There were lights in her windows, and now and then, the slim form of a woman flickered past, silhouetted on the window shades. An hour passed, yet David remained seated, relaxed, quiet. He had slipped into a state of mind that allowed him to pass the time restfully, yet fully alert. He had been in this position before, and knew that when the time was right, he would emerge from his reverie fully refreshed, hyperaware of his surrounds, and ready to accomplish the task at hand.

Elizabeth’s lights dimmed, wavered, and extinguished )

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decadent_david

August 2003

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