The Golden Apple

Two - Jake

A few people bump past me as I walk down the main street. I enjoy walking in busy streets, especially when the majority is taller men. Crowds are my camouflage. I can hide behind or between as many bodies as I want in order to remain hidden.

My stomach growls. I still haven't eaten yet. I take out one of the stolen apples from my brown saddlebag. The morning sun is beating down on the city. I squinted my eyes once the heat hit me.

I hate the sunlight. I know that sunlight is a symbol of happiness and light and all good in the world, but I see it as revealing. I get caught more in the sunlight because of the obvious shadows dragging behind me. It also gets in my eyes quite a bit.

I groan under my breath. Damn daylight, I thought to myself. I need a cloak.

My eyes slowly move to the right. Right across from me is a clothing booth with black and brown cloaks on the counter. A small smirk crept upon my lip.

I started to quietly sneak towards the booth. I need a cloak now. It is crucial for me to have that extra disguise handy in case anybody catches me in the act. There's nothing worse than being tattled on by a random stranger who happened to be watching.

I suddenly freeze in my tracks. I felt a strange pang of guilt inside of me. I exhaled slowly as my feet shifted indecisively. I hardly ever feel this way about what I do! This charade is natural instinct to me, especially after eight years of living homeless out in the streets.

I bit my lip. The sight of the cloak continues to tempt me. However, I pulled myself back and stood my ground.

I can't do it. Not like this. What I really need is money. That's the legal way to do it, after all. But where can I get money? It's not like it flies through the breeze on a regular basis.

I stumble backward. A few scattered golden coins slide and tumble down the street. My eyes widen as I rush to pick them up. Well, I thought. Maybe money does fly through the wind.

I bounded forward and scooped up all of the coins in my fist. The guilt quickly faded away as I start making my way to the clothing booth.

I stepped up to the counter. The woman there looks up from her daze while holding a small cloth, wiping the sweat beading at her forehead. Her skin is tan with her black hair braided down her back. She looks incredibly fatigued. She must have been outside all day in this blazing weather.

"Hello," she says to me.

She then tilts her head to the side. She is making really good eye contact. It is making me uncomfortable.

"What would you like?" she asks me.

My mind goes blank. I have been stealing for so long that I've forgotten how to socialize. Do I tell her what I want right away? Do I ask her how her day is going so far? Do I pretend I'm deaf and silently point to a cloak so I don't have to speak?

I shudder. I honestly have no clue what to do at this point.

"I-I would like to buy one of y-your cloaks," I stammered.

I grit my teeth in frustration. Good going, I thought. Now she's going to think you're a sputtering idiot.

She shuffles through the choices; the cloaks brushing past each other with haste. "Black or brown?" she asks.

I freeze. "Pardon?"

She sighs. "Black or brown. Pick a colour."

I point to the cloak on the right of me. "Brown."

"Okay...." she replied, setting the cloak onto the booth surface. "That will be twenty gold coins."

I lift my fist over the counter and drop the coins on the surface. The woman slides them over towards her one by one, counting in a low voice I can hardly hear. I hope I got enough off of the ground. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself by not having enough money to pay her.