The sky was darkening now, slowly transforming from dusty pink to a bluish black streaked with rich purple clouds framing the sunset. The smoke hiding the food stalls was almost smog like, perfect for remaining unnoticed whilst snatching a bite to eat. Time to make a move. I slipped down from my viewpoint and immediately blended into the crowd. From years of experience I had perfected the art of an almost invisible state and used it to full effect now. I skirted the view of several “police” and headed for the busiest stalls, whose owners would pay the least attention to a child, preferring to loudly announce in various languages the amazing quality and low prices of their food, hoping to entice paying customers. Flitting back and forth, I reached out to grab a few dates here, some olives over there before I scored my main meal for the day: a lamb brochette, slathered in my favourite sweet and sour sauce. I couldn’t believe my luck, the stall owner didn’t even bat an eyelid, but I wasn’t about to let myself become overconfident at the risk of losing my precious meal. Quickening my pace I returned to my viewpoint, my dirt-stained dark clothes almost invisible against the night sky. I ate slowly, relishing every bite, careful to not let any drop from my tattered lips. Finishing the brochette with a final lick of the skewer, I tossed the remnants over the side of the building to eliminate any trace; although at this moment I was alone, I shared my territory with many others and here was a common visiting place, I was in no mood to start a brawl over food.