Snickering, checking if the coast is clear. With steady hands he checks all the doors and non has been left for easy access.

Shattering the glass, he lets himself in and lets his eyes be accustomed to the dark. Taking in the beauty he sees infront of him and wanting it all, wanting to steal it all. Deep down he knows he can't have it all. He has to take what he can, but the question is what to take.

Deciding to first explore, then make a mental list of what to take, but is there enough time for that.

This house is full of things, some valuable, some not. The valuable ones have degrees. He thinks to himself that it's said that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, but then value is in the eyes of the assessor.

Finished, he snickers out, leaving the house violated. Coming back the owner realises that something is amiss.

Alas! The shattered glass. Scared of what lies ahead, snickering just like the thief, checking if the coast is clear, she takes herself inside. Checking to see the damage within, she asks herself "why my house?"

The first reaction is to fix the shattered glass. Reaction is dealing with the outside, then dealing with the inside for it takes longer.

This house is me.
The shattered glass, my heart.
The stolen valuables, my soul, my faith, my trust.

The question still remains
"Which one to fix first?"