On Her Red Saree

Then he almost laughed. Standing in front of the fire, looking out into the darkness, was a woman. A single woman, who wasn't even as large as the mother. He looked around. The quarry must be hiding in the old house. If that other woman stood aside, well, maybe he would let her be.He wouldn't, of course. The reason he had been so successful in his hunts was because he never left a witness. Or a body. He might offer escape to the intruder, but her body would end up down in the overgrown mine shaft where all the others had gone.A frown crossed his face. It was obviously just by chance, but the new prey was looking directly at him. Using all his wood craft he slipped back into the trees and circled around. Not that he was afraid, but it was so much more exciting to surprise them.Holding his breath, he moved in again. This time he was really surprised. Not only was she looking right at him again, but she had advanced to stand between him and the house. He moved back until he could barely. I was confident of my eventual success, however, and arranged for ownership papers to be sent to Zeus at the Austin address. The Texas motor vehicle computers were not as security conscious as they might have been, and they were kind enough to have overnight delivery as an option. A few clicks and my credit card took care of the fees.I haven't mentioned the credit card services I arranged for myself. It seems there are these long-unused accounts in Zürich, backed by millions and millions of Swiss Francs, so I just have the bills sent to a few accounts there, and the credit services are taken care of. The accounts were established in the 1930s and 1940s, from various addresses in Germany and Austria. I haven't bothered to research the owners' addresses or sources, beyond checking that they have been unused for about 60 years. I did slip a note into the Zürich banks' computers to the effect that "I" (the owner) would be drawing on the account(s) from time to time; that was backdated.
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