Arthur plucked a smart-phone out of a pocket.
Arthur Kirkland had a rather unconventional hobby. It was something that most morally-sound people would not condone. As a low-income young adult, Arthur found it difficult to make ends meet. So, from his point of view it made absolute sense for him to turn to petty crime as a way for him to feed and clothe himself, pay the incredibly steep rent for his London flat, and if he was lucky, have a tiny amount of disposable income left afterwards. Theft just made sense to Arthur.
Arthur fished a purse out of an open bag.
With two years without capture under his belt, Arthur could quite proudly say that he was very good at his 'job'. He considered himself to be swift and cunning, his litheness enabled him to snake through crowds and his minding-my-own-business attitude removed him from suspicion. In his two years as a thief, Arthur had developed a routine, he kept his criminal activity well organised, visiting certain areas often enough, but not frequently enough for him to be spotted.
A rushing commuter brushed past him and Arthur gained a wallet.
Dressed fit for any bog standard city job - dark suit, large grey coat, and black scarf - Arthur moved swiftly through the tired throng. He joined a mass of people heading towards a lift and in the duration of time that they were all packed together like sardines, the bag in front of him suddenly became lighter by approximately one i-pod.
Arthur shot off as soon as the doors opened. He walked to the platform and 'dropped' a handful of coins, then preceded to relieve the man who stopped to help him of his camera.
In two hours of prowling around The Underground Arthur has become; four phones, one camera, five wallets, and an i-pod richer. All of his prizes secured well in hidden pockets on his person.
It was midday when Arthur decided that he could start heading home. He boarded the next train that stopped, preparing to go home and sift through his spoils. The carriage was a lot busier than Arthur expected and contrary to what he would've liked, he had to stand, squeezed up against a glass panel.
In no time Arthur noticed that the three men standing in front of him were tourists. It was made painfully obvious by the loud man with an American accent who refused to be respectfully quiet despite the man who looked like his relative, softly telling him to 'shut the fuck up'. The third member of the group, had a rucksack on, it was about the size of a small child and he had a very expensive looking camera hanging around his neck. From the conversation that occurred right in front of Arthur, he discovered that their names were Alfred, Matthew, and Kiku.
They all had their backs to Arthur and the man in the middle, Alfred - Arthur heard the man next to him calling him - had a nice, shiny, new-looking i-phone poking out of the back pocket of his baggy jeans.
Arthur really didn't have a choice in the matter. If someone had an expensive gadget on show like that, it had already been decided by the Gods of pick-pocketing that it would be stolen. And well, if Arthur didn't steal it, someone else would.
He decided to do it slowly, the chances were that the man would notice a sudden lack of presence in a back-pocket. Arthur thought that easing it out would be a better option. He set his stance, looking at the map of the jubilee line on the wall of the carriage, he gently lifted the phone from the pocket.
The carriage rocked suddenly, causing the passengers to jostle around and grab for some sort of holding.
Unfortunately for Arthur, the only thing for him to hold onto was the man in front of him. And even more unfortunately for Arthur, his hand happened to be in not a very good place. So inevitably, when Arthur lurched forward, his outstretched hand came into contact with Alfred's backside. It was entirely plausible for someone to misunderstand and assume that what was occurring, was an extremely enthusiastic - and a little bit violent - arse grab. What a terrible misunderstanding.
The apparent arse grab victim, Alfred, squawked loudly and jumped into the air. He promptly hit his head on the carriage ceiling and fell onto one of his friends.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The one who was apparently called Matthew shouted, pushing Alfred off him.
"ME!" Alfred yelled, slapping his chest to indicate that he was indeed talking about himself. "That, guy fucking grabbed my ass!" Alfred pointed at Arthur and the entire carriage craned their necks to get a good look at the groper. Arthur shrinks under all the disgusted looks being thrown his way.
"I did no such thing!" Arthur shouted, red faced and instantly regretting his over-sensitive reaction.
"Woah, you grabbed my butt. Don't even try denying it!" Alfred countered, an incredulous look on his face.
"It was an accident."
"You tried to pull my damn cheek off!"
"I fell, you idiot. I didn't mean to touch your arse."
The short but heated spat ended quickly when Kiku, nudged the angry American, "Alfred-san, this is our stop."
Arthur and Alfred separated with an angrily hissed "asssssss-grabber." from Alfred and an equally angry obscene hand gesture from Arthur.
After Arthur's anger fizzled out, he noticed with much glee that he'd succeeded in stealing Alfred's i-phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked it over. He didn't even feel the tiniest itch of guilt that he had with one, swift action, probably ruined Alfred's visit to London, however long it might be. No, definitely not. Nope, not at all...
Thank you for reading.
This should go on for at least six chapters because right now at the time of me writing this I have roughly that many chapters planned out. It'll hopefully be longer than that... As long as I don't get bored with it :/
I have gone back and edited this so that the chapter is now written is the past tense. If anyone feels that they'd prefer it in present tense, then please leave a quick review saying so because I still have the old version saved and I can easily change it back.