We called them doorman buildings. We dreamed of them, but they was always out of reach. No way you get past the lobby, let alone onto them high floors where the really rich people live.
The blackout changed all that. Them doormen scattered like cockroaches, left their lobbies wide open. We just strolled right in like we owned the place. I pushed the highest number in the elevator. Start at the top, work my way down.
You’d think them rich folks have things worth stealing, but you’d be wrong. What fence in his right mind takes antiques or oil paintings?
Great voice here and love the last line!
Original take!
I like it. Good story!
Crackling with authenticity
Very very nice
Great narrative voice!
This is great! Great ideas and perspective!
I could imagine that scene well, so your words were bought to life. Very original.
Great voice and tone. I like his style – starting at the top is a good move. I hope he can look beyond the antiques and artwork to find something more to his taste – cash, wine, jewellery – it’s bound to be there somewhere.
It is funny what people value and what drives the idea of value.