Escapade

Barking welcomed them. Loud ones that drowned out sound of the grey, Benz coupe driving into the compound.
"You have a dog?"
"Three actually; between my neighbour and me"
"Woa!"
"You don't like them? Don't worry, they are let loose from 9.
Her eyes flew to her wristwatch of their own volition: 8pm. Hmmm.

The sitting room was a snapshot of affluence, she might as well be in Malibu. He'd been on the money when he bragged that he wasn't a beggar. Dude was doing well for himself. She smiled.

This was preferred. Not the, high-on-Tramadol-Shisha-and-whatever else, Yahoo Boys. They could be anything from loaded to near-broke but they were always insatiable.

Encounters with them always took a toll on her body.

She brought herself to and took in the bedroom. A wardrobe took up one wall. Adjacent, reaching one-third of the way up, was a shoe rack. It had no space. There was a large bedside drawer. Jewellery and perfumes, she hoped.

He was asleep, snoring in fact, when she got up. The bedside drawer held treasures. Money: local and foreign currency, wristwatches, necklaces and wristbands (those were either good or platinum).

She facilitated a transfer scheme to her handbag.

Tiptoeing, she let herself out of the room, and the front door. Then eased it into place gently till it clicked, and turned to go.

A saliva-dripping canine was sitting on its haunches, eyes trained on the door. It gave a low growl, then lunged.
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