Doors and cupboards and draws were being opened, reverberating throughout the wooden house in which we loitered. They were the sounds of a ransacking. I certainly wasn't fond of the idea of stealing from the dead. But, it would appear that it wasn't as bad as I had thought. The owner of the items I was plundering was perhaps dead, just like a part of myself.
I perched at the edge of the porch of the second floor, peering at the world as it rained heavily. It was not a thing for a coward to muster the bravery to do. Perching at the edge of a balcony. But that didn't change the fact that I was a coward.
An empty backpack was around my minuscule delts. It was a black backpack, with very few pockets. I stole it lest we wanted to store more salvaged items.
