The Night Market

In the dead of the night, a thief scurries along the dirt track. Ahead, a looming temple. It had to be 10,000 years old, at the least. He ignores the warning sign. Only greed on his mind. His hasty footsteps echo off the cavernous walls. At last. The tokens of death. Harabuna. He snatches them from the podium, not looking back at the collapsing temple. And without a word, he disappears into the night.