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Literature

Stella and the Intruder

Stella and the Homeintruder There he stood, looking at his victim. The silence in the room was overwhelming, only occasionally broken by the rustling of the curtains in the draft from the open window. The daylight filtering through the half-closed blinds cast long shadows on the wooden floor, highlighting the contours of Stella, who sat before him on the floor. She shouldn't have been home; he knew that well. But she was, and he had made the best of the unexpected situation. He examined her thoroughly, noting every small detail of her appearance and current condition. Stella was in her early thirties, with a sporty figure that betrayed her athletic discipline. Her blonde, shoulder-length hair fell in a perfect layered cut over her shoulders, with a few strands tickling her cheeks. Her white, tight-fitting shirt accentuated her slim waist and well-formed breasts, while her blue jeans clung to her long, strong legs. The white tennis socks on her feet completed her relaxed