Prompt: destiny calls and I go (05)
"Ma, did you get any customers yesterday? George asked, his eyes anxious.
Eleni shook her head, her eyes glued to the carrot that she was slicing. There were incredibly dark circles beneath her eyes, a testament to the late hours she had kept last night. Taking in George's fallen face, she pulled him close and murmered, "I know you're always hungry. I'm sorry, George. We'll fix this soon."
"I'm not hungry, Ma," he tried to reassure her, but Eleni was not fooled.
"I'll go wait for customers," she told George and placed the carrot in front of him. "Go have fun and I'll see you later."
After eating half the carrot and saving the rest for his mother, George scrambled out of the house and into the city. He needed to do something, that was plain, but what could a boy of nine do?
Wandering throughout the city, George began to piece together a plan. He had begun to scrutinize the thieves, why didn't he simply become one? He could steal food, money, things that could help him and his mother.
George slowly wound through alleyways, looking for eligible places to thieve from. The young men were too strong, the children would scream, and the ladies drew too much attention. Few shops were left unattended, and those that were held nothing of importance. Finally George came upon a bakery that looked promising. He could see no one inside as he peered through the doorway and decided to slink into the shop.
The room was empty, although he could hear clangs emanating from the small kitchen. Quickly, before anyone could notice his arrival, he reached behind the counter and drew out two loaves of bread. Scampering away, he took one last look from the doorway to be sure that no one had seen him.
George began to run, taking special care to watch where he stepped. He was afraid of dropping the food or having someone thieve the bread from him. He inhaled deeply and savored the scents that wafted from the bread. Flour, yeast, even the slight smell of charred wood; it was heaven. The bread was still warm against his chest and he drew his arms around the loaf, protecting it as if it was a baby. He sprinted all the way home like this, with jolts of happiness flooding him.
His Ma was not going to be happy with his methods, but he hoped that she would soon accept it. Thieving was in the nature of the city, and it was in his destiny.
Note: I'm falling behind...