The Burden of Truth

Few hours left before beautiful bride returned from night shift duty. Ever since hapless husband-me lost his job, she had started doing extra time to feed us.

Target house identified. Door lock snapped. Deft fingers cracked digital safe in master bedroom.

Valuable contents gave hope. Sweet spouse need not work overtime anymore.

Heard shuffling sounds. Bending, caught a naked couple hiding below king size bed.

“What do you want?” he screamed, crawling out.

“I did it for money, John!” sobbed my wife.

Hugging and kissing each other, we both cried inconsolably, devastated by the poignant truth of our degradation.