One Night

The gnawing ache of hunger is a familiar companion, but today it’s sharper, fueled by the sight of gleaming jewels and the scent of spiced air in the bustling Qadura souk. You move through the crowds like a shadow, your rags a deliberate camouflage against the rich tapestries and vibrant goods. Every flash of color, every burst of laughter from well-dressed families, is a stark reminder of the life you lost, the life you now steal from.
The glint of a ruby-studded bracelet catches your eye, a beacon of hope in the oppressive heat. It adorns the wrist of a woman draped in wealth, a life so different from yours it feels like a dream. As she turns away from a beaming merchant, your hand reaches out, a practiced movement honed by desperation.
But before your fingers can brush against the cool metal, a forceful grip seizes your wrist. An intimidating figure in the maroon and gold of royalty looms over you, dragging you into the shadows. Fear, cold and sharp, pierces through the hunger. Caught.