Enter by the Narrow Gate — Greg Evans

I reached her door and easily picked the lock like an experienced safe cracker. Silently as if an apparition I glided through the foyer into the kitchen. There sat a partially consumed bottle of Yellowtail Merlot. I poured myself a glass. Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, sipping the wine I watched her sleep. The wine was delicate upon my tongue. It was like foreplay. I finished it and wiped the glass clean of DNA evidence. Removing the silk scarf from my pocket I experienced a cool sensation rush over my body as if a window had been left open in the dead of winter. There was electricity in the air. A glimmer of moonlight broke through the clouds. A beam of green light illuminated her room. Her snore was whispery like Pachelbel's Canon in D major