A dark figure moved swiftly and silently in the dark. On the streets there was a slight mist lightly. The sinister figure entered a house through the back door. He opened a black bag and began to put in some items that he found on the furniture: a pair of wooden statuettes, clip, remote control and five albums of Bob Dylan that were on the stereo in the living room. Once finished filming for the home, the thief, very quietly left the house and ran away disappearing into the darkness.
Mr. Jones, the next morning awoke, got up and went into the living room. Let out a scream that was heard in the middle of the country. "My precious discs!"
"What is it dear? What happened? "Said the alarmed wife, who had been awakened with a start URL inhumane.
"My records! My precious discs. " Mr. Jones was a retired police officer, more than sixty, a huge fan of Bob Dylan, but despite his age, kept in good physical shape and still had a pretty athletic. Mrs. Jones was a distinguished lady who spent her his days making up the shield of an old worn chair.
A voice from out the window said: "What?" Was Mr. Williams: he was the retired cop most of the village busybody. He, like Jones, was more than sixty, were gentlemen, therefore, were known for many years. "I passed by here to do my morning run and I heard a scream, something happened ?"...
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