I haven't been able to run for a while due to snowy conditions, which means I've had to resort to indoor forms of exercise. This requires room I really don't have, so picture me attempting a Pilates workout while snaking my arm through the rungs of a dining room chair, and twisting just far enough to miss the kid's tower of Xbox 360 games. It's a challenge that, more often than not, leads to flying figurines and bruised shins.
Which lets me know I could never be like Jaz and Vayl. If I tried to sneak through somebody's house--a place I'd never been--with the idea that I wouldn't make a single sound to alert them, I'd be toast before I made it to the halfway point. Most of the time I imagine myself tripping over the coffee table, falling into the ottoman, and being enthusiastically humped to death by the family Shih Tzu. Yes. I know that if I worked as a CIA assassin it would, at minimum, lead to certain torture and the divulgance of my safety deposit box key's location. And yet I keep writing about them. Probably because they never walk into walls or get BBQ sauce on their favorite sweaters.
You got any interesting characters (real or fiction) in whose footsteps you know you'd probably stumble and sprain an ankle, but you can't get enough of them anyway?