Wilted Roses

~1~ Prizes and Memories

    Hey there! Here's the next installment of Wilted Roses. We'd love to have some feedback and we hope that you enjoy reading! Please keep in mind this is only a filler, setting up the rest of the story and giving a bit of background.

Thank you!

~AwkwardRoses

Prizes and Memories

My eye was on the prize.

     It was bustling down the people laden street of mid town in it's expensive Armani suit, loafers, and checking it's Rolex watch every other minute or so as if late for a business meeting.

    I couldn't help but compare my attire. My mud brown jeans were ripped at the knees, my tank top smeared with dirt and also ripped. The sole of one of my charity shop trainers had gained a mouth the spoke every time I took a step. A green trench coat pooled around the backs of my knees coated in grime. A dark brown knit hat concealed my hair from the public eye as it was pulled down to my ears. A thick black scarf suffocated my neck keeping the chill at bay whilst my mother's black leather gloves - which now fit me properly - protected my dangerous hands. I looked the perfect picture of a homeless person.

    With every second my prize took a step closer. It turned around and faced the opposite way to where it was originally heading. Seeing my window of oppportunity I scurried out of the alleyway I had hidden in and headed to claim my prize.

    It turned around and knocked me to the ground. The fall would no doubt leave a bruise but it will be worth it.

    It looked down at me in shock and a small bit of regret.

   "Are you ok? I apologize for knocking you down like that, I wasn't watching where I was going. Here, let me help you up," It said in a rush.

    Its right hand reached down, clasped my dirty left one and hoisted me up. Its blazer opened - presenting me with the rich contents hidden inside - whilst the owner was preoccupied with helping me. What a fool.

     My right hand shot out and claimed my well earned prize with nimble fingers. I quickly concealed it within the depths of my trench coat pocket.

    Nobody noticed my conquest. Not even the fool who had just been played.

   I muttered a quick 'thanks' in the fools direction before scurrying away and disappearing into the ocean of people, my hand gripping onto my prize like a lifeline. With each step I took further away, a smirk grew on my lips. It's just too easy these days.

****

    "I'm back!" I shouted to no one in particular as I opened the splintered front door and strode into the cold, run down house.

    A sharp scent fluttered past my nose and I followed its lead into the kitchen.

    There, stood at the stove, was Uncle Archie.

    "You're back early today Aurelia. Rich pickings were about I take it," he murmured without facing me. Every so often he stirred the thick stew with a wooden spoon.

    "Oh you have no idea, Uncle Archie," I said happily  placing all of my prizes onto the large table in the middle of the room.

    A low chuckle erupted from Uncle Archie, “I feel sorry for your targets.”

    I shook my head at his back and proceeded to inspect my winnings: three wallets and two wads of cash.

   Opening the nearest wallet to me, I extracted $200 before throwing the rest of the stuff – useless crap like ID’s and photos of wives and children – to the chest over on my right. I repeated this process with the other two wallets and counted my overall winnings.