Chapter 3

Aha, I spotted the tourist. Any other of her kind would have tinted green with envy at the sight of her, draped in money. She was dressed in a Chanel vest, with a cashmere shawl, Armani jeans, and Christian Louboutin shoes. Expensive taste. Of course, how was I supposed to know? To me, just another walking target. But one thing caught my experienced eye; the [Dolce and Gabbana] shoulder bag slung behind her? Big mistake. Slipping through the crowd as silent and unseen as a ghost, I followed her for a street or two before I made my move. Within moments I was crouching behind an urn about 2 foot away from my earlier leaning post, 50 dirham tucked in the homemade waist pouch tied onto my skinny frame. Not for me of course, I didn’t need money to survive, but Ma tried to make an honest living, and needed money for the weekly market to buy food for the rest of the family.

The End

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