The sidewalk is ingrained with years' worth of filth and dirt, and now one more layer of water is sinking in. The road encroaching it is filled with as many puddles as potholes, and as cars pass, foul rainwater lurches out, splattering unwary pedestrians.
One man wears a long, black coat that almost touches the top of his grimy brown boots, with an upturned collar that shadows most of his face. Slightly frightened, weary brown eyes peer out, blinking suddenly as he is sprayed with water. His hair, already disheveled to say the least, is now drenched and a considerably darker shade.
He stumbles along, his ragged appearance and clumsiness giving off the impression that he is drunk, most probably after losing a game (or twenty) down at Vegas. People push past him, disgust flickering on their faces as they press their children closer to themselves. Suddenly, the man falls to the ground with a subdued cry. Instinctively reaching out, his stubby, grubby fingers brush the arm of a woman in a bright pink, flower print dress.
She lets out a squawk of surprise and automatically scoops up her daughter, who squirms and peeks over her shoulder. The woman turns and glowers at him, icily asking him, "Just what do you think you're doing?"
Scrambling to his feet, the man apologetically says, "I'm sorry, I fell and my fingers touched your bag."
He stares into her eyes earnestly, dripping wet. Grumbling, she snarls, "So you're a thief as well as a liar. That's very fine. You'll get your reward for that, mark my words."
"A thief I may be on occasion, but a liar I am not," he replied simply.
The woman sneered, then turned and marched away. Dressed in a plain, navy blue dress and patent leather shoes, the little girl glanced at him, wide-eyed, as a small, glowing orb landed in her hands.
He winked and then saluted her, and she solemnly saluted him in return, before the crowd swallowed them.
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