Second Story Man

Uncle Trash said they called us second-story men because people used to live above the stores where they worked during the day.

We’d go up the fire escape to the roof, then across to a neighboring building, down another fire escape. We wore coveralls with names on them. Nobody bothers two guys in coveralls even when they see them on a rooftop.

I carried one of those slim prybars to slip in the window sash. We’d get through five, six places a day. Find the jewelry, the cash, then leave the place neat a pin.

Even fed a cat once.

 

Friday Fictioneers

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