The Burglar

The burglar rolled into town like the tumbleweed that drifted across the wide open plains that surrounded River Gulch. There wasn’t a living soul that could now recall how the town had ended up with such a name, as there was neither a river nor a gulch within a days ride, and the few remaining townsfolk even argued whether the ramshackle collection of falling-down buildings and barns could really be called a town anymore. The town had enjoyed a brief flare of notoriety during the gold rush, but that had quickly faded to nothing, like the peeling paint on the sign that marked your arrival at River Gulch. The majority of the stores were now empty and boarded up but the handful that remained took pride of place on the main thoroughfare. 

He stood watching the comings and going of the Gulch’s inhabitants from the relative coolness that the patch of shade from the withered, leafless tree afforded him from the savage noon day sun. Lounging in the shadows he was almost invisible, his dusty coat not much darker than the clay packed street that he stood upon. He stretched languorously, kicking the dirt floor at his feet. The ferocious sun finally too much for him, he wandered off in search of a cool oasis in which to sleep until the heat of the day finally dissipated. However, if truth be told, the setting of the sun did little to dispel the stifling temperatures that suffocated this part of the country for most of the year. The occasional feeble gusts of wind did little more than swirl the sultry air and sandy soil into the air creating a baking, endless oven rather than offering any actual respite from the oppressive heat. 

He crossed the street so that he could take advantage of what little shade there was to be found under the midday sun. He sauntered casually along the main street for several moments before stopping suddenly. He cocked his head and looked through the boarded up door of one of the many abandoned stores. He had found what he wanted, he could always trust his nose to sniff out something of value. Even in an almost deserted ghost town like this, you could always find something if you knew where to look. 

He speculated for the briefest of moments whether he would be able to dart in and out of the deserted store quickly enough to claim his prize, but experience had taught him to be cautious. Especially when there were people bustling around, and besides, the sun was too bright and oppressive to guarantee the success of his raid. So, without another thought, he continued on his quest to find a comfortable bed to while away the remaining hours until sunset. Instinctively, his feet led him away from the main street, through the quiet back streets and eventually to the final few buildings and abandoned warehouses that marked the edge of the town. He roamed the grain silos for a few minutes wondering if he would be able to pocket a tasty morsel or two but he quickly gave up his hunt when it became apparent that everything worth while had already been stripped bare. In a secluded corner, he found a stack of discarded corn sacks in a pile on the floor, and making himself as comfortable as possible, he closed his eyes and slipped into a fitful catnap plagued by dreams of untold riches and luxury.

He woke several hours later as the sun was dipping behind the horizon. It painted the sky with vibrant streaks of magenta, crimson and orange that deepened into burnished gold before darkening into a myriad of blues and then ultimately to black. As ever, the countless stars were hidden by the dusty haze that hung listlessly in the sky.

He stretched, trying to work out the kinks from his back after sleeping on such a hard and unforgiving mattress. He tried to shake the thick layer of dust from his coat, but all he managed to do was create an ever bigger cloud that made him cough and sneeze. He left the choking smog behind him, and set off into the relatively clean and cool darkness.

He took a long circuitous route back into the heart of the town, always alert for danger. He stole silently down the abandoned alley that ran between the General Store and its neighbor. He leapt lightly onto the fire escape that embraced the back of the building and ran quickly up the metal stairs, then slipped soundlessly through the open window on the second floor. He emerged moments later dragging his prize behind him. He darted up the winding staircase, quick as a phantom, and once he reached the summit, without looking down even for a second, leapt effortlessly to the roof of the adjacent building and sped across the crumbling tiles.

He froze, his body silhouetted against the night sky as a group of thirsty ranchers meandered across the street in search of an icy brew to slake the thirst they had built up from a hard day in the saddle. He crouched as close to the baked terracotta shingles as possible, keeping a tight grip on his loot, not wanting it to slip from his grasp in his attempt to remain unseen. Even in the full darkness of night, he could still feel the uncomfortable, burning heat from the long hours the tiles had spent baking under the relentless, blazing sun.

The moment the weary men entered the tavern and the street below was empty once more, he continued to traverse his way across the roof. He stopped in the shadow cast by the crumbling chimney stack and gratefully dropped his burden to the floor for a second, immediately pinning it in place with his foot. It twitched for a moment then fell still. 

‘Miaow’ purred the cat burglar, then picked up the lifeless mouse in its teeth, and disappeared over the rooftops and into the dusty, desert night.