Luster Bright as Dawn

Caleb would peg the downy lady as cheery. All pep, few brains, and possibly distracted by shiny objects.

That worked just fine for them both.

She gushed over Midnight. Cooed at how he held his treasured friend close.

Actually, much more than that. Midnight was the only living thing he could trust right now. The only one he allowed himself to love right back. Midnight's was so naively, so freely given.

Much like the cherry pink leather sectional he nuzzled up in. A matching soft pink fuzzy blanket provided.

"You can even keep it if you like deary," she simpered, turning out the light and waddling away.

She was quite large. Fat and probably somewhere in her fifties, or maybe close to seventy.

Whatever.

Caleb rolled over onto his other side, so he faced the couch and not the hall.

A shiny clock of fake gold and obnoxious design clicked the hour. Past eleven, thirty minutes to midnight.

Did he like stealing from sweet old ladies who had proven to really be so starved for company even homeless boys like him would do?

No. No he didn't.

But Caleb needed to eat and Caleb was not going to return to foster care. Life on the road, it proved quite eventful.

People sure did get wise fast. About the thieving kid that always cased the houses with the classic street waif play.

All untrue. Of course.

The awful thief was probably a miserable little wretch ungrateful and a burden on perfectly tender parents.

Funny how all their precious possessions were stamped onto police reports just as if not more important than thousands of missing children.

These were the things he'd thought about lately.

He really shouldn't get too bitter.

Pete had been perfectly nice.

The older people get it seemed the less they had in them to be mean. Maybe since by then their adult kids don't need them anymore either. Sooo, they got mean.

This lady's name-- the one whose house he was currently robbing-- was named Dawn.

Caleb peeled out of the couch, sliding quietly to the rugged living room floor.

He really hated stealing.

Midnight did too.

She began to cry.

Her drawers had been strung shut but it was a laughably easy job to figure her code. Each and every item had the same date code. The day of her first date. Her husband's deployment. Her first son's birth.

The day that man was no longer any son of hers.

Caleb took only a few of the pretty silver spoons and tea plates.

Next he scrounged the fridge for a fine stash of food for the road that morning and a slice of her sweet, decadent Black Chocolate Gelato cake.

How did the stores get ice cream in the center? How did she?

The light flickered on and Caleb reared.

The plump old bag was smiling serene as a drugged out bird, a nice white robe knotted tight.

"Well about time now," she hmmphed, small and still so, so disappointed.

Caleb did nothing, simply let her strut in her slippers for her dining table.

Where she opened up the tin of stale chocolate and moon cakes.

"Let's have a chat sweetie. About my son."