The two women sat facing each other in the kitchen, surrounded by shards of dishware that had been knocked to the floor. One, the burglar, had been tied to the chair where she was sitting; bungee cords and rags crossed her limbs and her chest. The other, the homeowner, was bouncing a tennis ball on the tile floor.
"Is this bothering you yet?" the homeowner asked as the soft thuds continued.
The burglar remained silent. A bruise was spreading across her jaw like water pooling beneath a leaky roof.
"Bet you wish you had tried to steal these," the homeowner said with a click of her tongue. She caught the tennis ball and put it back into the can with the other two from the set just as red and blue lights appeared, painting the room through the windows.
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