"Goldilocks leaves her cave," Graverobber observed, watching her approach with an expression that gave nothing away. "How's life on the outside?"
Shilo leaned against the wall beside him, holding the strap of her shoulder bag both for comfort and in case some back alley ruffian tried to take it. "Nobody notices me," Shilo told him, uncertain as to why that bothered her. She would have thought that the Opera was something unforgettable, but the Graverobber was the only person who seemed to remember. "They don't know who I am. Even the people in shops don't recognize me."
Graverobber smiled at her (she noticed that his teeth were strangely clean for a man who seemed to live on the streets). "People are sheep," he explained sweetly, "the world turns and you're no longer big news. They forget you and move onto the next scandal. That's the beauty of it, kid. They never remember."
The Graverobber pushed himself away from the wall to greet a thin, spindly woman with bright pink hair, leaving Shilo on her own.
Shilo stayed back, observing in silence. She fingered the strap of her bag, feeling the weight of canned soups and instant pasta. She imagined the expression on the checkout girl's face, bored and dull. She replaced the girl's face with her own, imagining herself in the supermarket uniform, her eyes glassy as she scanned each new item. Could she ever be one of those normal people, the ones who forgot?
"She looks so pensive," Graverobber teased, suddenly right in front of her. "What's going on in that head of yours, him?"
"I'm not normal," Shilo blurted, stating it as fact.
Graverobber shook his head, chuckling a little. "Oh, I know," he told her, "believe me, kid. I knew that one already."
"You're not normal either," Shilo pointed out, trying not to look at his face. She didn't want to see if he was laughing at her or with her, fearing the worse of the two.
"Two peas in a pod."
Shilo was about to protest that they were nothing alike when some errant thought made her stop. The list of similarities compiled in her head. It wasn't long, but a few words stood out in bold. They were both peculiar in one way or another, they were both alone, both hiding on the fringes of society. Shilo closed her mouth and looked down at her feet. They were even both wearing boots, though hers were dainty and Victorian and his were modern monstrosities.
"Two ducks on a pond," Shilo agreed with a sigh.
"Corpses and death," Graverobber drawled, sliding down the wall beside her until he was sitting on the ground. "Sickness and disease. Goldilocks and bears."
"You know," Shilo said suddenly, as innocently as she knew how. "You're the one who keeps breaking into my crypt, which makes you Goldilocks, not me."
The Graverobber allowed himself to look momentarily surprised. Then he tugged on a lock of his own hair, amusement dancing about his eyes and mouth. "Next time," he told her, "why don't you leave me some porridge?"
Shilo left, neglecting to tell him that she wasn't entirely sure how to make porridge.