Weathered skin, dirty boots, dirty jeans, dirty jacket. Drops his dirty backpack on the clean floor, knocking over a display of women's shoes. Looks around, challenges anyone to challenge him about it.
"Where are the belts?"
Makes his selection, wraps it around his neck, picks up his backpack and leaves without paying, stopping at the door to once again challenge anyone to challenge him.
Poverty, need, desperation, crime. In my opinion he did the right thing.
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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips.
All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.