Encountering Spot Conlon
Anthony shrank back into the dark, damp corner of an alleyway. He was tired, hungry, and cold. For days he'd been simply running, walking, and sleeping only when absolutely necessary. Anthony rested his head in his hands and tried to rest, but the loud growling from his protesting stomach kept him awake. Groaning, Anthony crawled out of the alley and determined to either get some money, or get some food, whichever came first. Glancing around he looked for someone who would be easy praying for picking a pocket. His eye caught a small scrawny kid, off in a corner busily selling his papes. Anthony grinned as he thought to himself, My luck is lookin' up! This kid oughta be easy seein' as he's busy, an' all. Slowly he mad his way towards the newsie, keeping his eye on him the whole time. Nervously he decided to make a dash for it, and ran straight towards the kid. Just as he was about to reach him the newsie neatly side stepped him, then turned and grabbed Anthony by the arm.
"What da Heck do ya t'ink yer doin'?!" the newsie yelled into Anthony's surprised face. The newsie let go of his arm, but when Anthony tried to make a break for it, he grabbed his shirt and got up in his face. "Goin' somewhere's?" he growled menacingly. "Ya gots one chance ta tell me what you was doin' before Ise soak ya." Anthony visibly winced, and shivered.
"Ise was just runnin'-" but before Anthony could finish his sentence a fist came flying into his face.
"Try da truth this time why dontchya." Smirked the newsie. Anthony gulped and braced himself for another punch
"I was gonna pick yer pocket." He whispered.
"Hey! What was dat? I didn' heah ya!" The newsie yelled in his face. Anthony flinched and repeated himself a little louder.
"Well, if dats all I'll let ya go, but don't let me catch you picking Spot Conlon's pocket again!" then the newsie, or Spot Conlon as he called himself, shoved Anthony away from him and stalked off.
Anthony stumbled, and fell back into the street when Spot shoved him backwards. Grudginly he picked himself up and started walking to nowhere in particular.
Anthony shrank back into the dark, damp corner of an alleyway. He was tired, hungry, and cold. For days he'd been simply running, walking, and sleeping only when absolutely necessary. Anthony rested his head in his hands and tried to rest, but the loud growling from his protesting stomach kept him awake. Groaning, Anthony crawled out of the alley and determined to either get some money, or get some food, whichever came first. Glancing around he looked for someone who would be easy praying for picking a pocket. His eye caught a small scrawny kid, off in a corner busily selling his papes. Anthony grinned as he thought to himself, My luck is lookin' up! This kid oughta be easy seein' as he's busy, an' all. Slowly he mad his way towards the newsie, keeping his eye on him the whole time. Nervously he decided to make a dash for it, and ran straight towards the kid. Just as he was about to reach him the newsie neatly side stepped him, then turned and grabbed Anthony by the arm.
"What da Heck do ya t'ink yer doin'?!" the newsie yelled into Anthony's surprised face. The newsie let go of his arm, but when Anthony tried to make a break for it, he grabbed his shirt and got up in his face. "Goin' somewhere's?" he growled menacingly. "Ya gots one chance ta tell me what you was doin' before Ise soak ya." Anthony visibly winced, and shivered.
"Ise was just runnin'-" but before Anthony could finish his sentence a fist came flying into his face.
"Try da truth this time why dontchya." Smirked the newsie. Anthony gulped and braced himself for another punch
"I was gonna pick yer pocket." He whispered.
"Hey! What was dat? I didn' heah ya!" The newsie yelled in his face. Anthony flinched and repeated himself a little louder.
"Well, if dats all I'll let ya go, but don't let me catch you picking Spot Conlon's pocket again!" then the newsie, or Spot Conlon as he called himself, shoved Anthony away from him and stalked off.
Anthony stumbled, and fell back into the street when Spot shoved him backwards. Grudginly he picked himself up and started walking to nowhere in particular.