There was a thick foggy rain with the odd crack of bright yellow penetrating it and its all-consuming noise. We were exposed to the harsh elements. Underfoot, there was old time-worn concert that had holes in it here and there. In the middle of the Corso, there was an old clock tower, which had its face stuck at 6 for years. People were running everywhere, trying to find cover, which there was little of. Although it was so crowded and hard to move. A clearing appeared, in the middle of which, there was a person who has fallen over, wearing a green button-up shirt and blue striped pants. She had dropped everything that they were carrying. Including everything inside of her leather bag, which was now scattered all over the rough, hard floor. People are running, carelessly stepping on her and her thing are all strewn across the floor, in their rush for cover. I look at her through a grotesque, jagged and reasonable sized crack, struggling, rushing, to pick up everything before it is ruined, by rain or person. I watch with intense interest, planning my next move, noting everything that they are doing inside my mind. I'm wearing a pair of jeans, and a black hoodie with the hood up, covering my face from view. I walked up to her and helped them up, picking up the old shabby green wallet I switch it for a fake one of the same weight. I then give the fake wallet back to them and right at that moment there is a definingly loud crack like something had just exploded that comes from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. The person whom I had just 'helped' asked 'Who are you?'
But I pretended not to hear and continue into the darkness and disappear from her view just as quickly as I had come. All the while, somehow barely being wet as if somehow the water was too pure and clean to touch me.
