Writing Adventures

Flash Fiction: Little Thief

23rd April, 2010 - No Comments

He slipped through the alley, the sack clutched tight to his chest. The city was sleeping, and his theft would go unnoticed until morning. If, that was, he could get back to the guildhall without getting nabbed by the city guard. He pressed against the wall as he approached the street. The lamps shed little flickering pools of light onto the cobblestones. Water glistened on every surface from an earlier storm. His bare feet were cold, but his blood was hot as he stepped out and dashed down the street.

He made it to the next corner and skidded to a halt as voices drifted around the bend. Scrambling into a doorway, he curled up on the stoop as though he was simply an urchin catching some shelter for the night. The voices drew closer, accompanied by boot steps.

“Slow night, no one out in the rain.”

“Even the guard stuck to the taverns tonight.”

“What’s that?” They rounded the corder and spotted the boy.

“Just some kid, he don’t even have shoes.”
“What’s he doin’ out?”

“No where to be in, I guess. Leave him be.”

“Fine, just bored.”

Their steps moved on, voices retreating into the night. He peeked through his arms, seeing their backs off in the distance, waiting for them to get out of sight. He listened a few minutes longer, then unfolded and dashed around the building and up the next street.

The guildhall was three streets away, past the market. An easy task on a busy day, but at night the city guard kept a close eye on the open space. He skirted between the stalls, edging his way around. The taverns were quiet by now, and nothing stirred. He tried to look everywhere at once, certain he was being watched. The bag at his chest jangled as he came to a sudden stop, and his heart frozen. Still, nothing moved.

He could see the far side of the square, the alley that would take him home. A pool of light the last obstacle. He looked all around it, checking every shadow, doorway and roof. The absence of rats disturbed him most. Surely they were not all asleep, too. Taking one last breath, he sprinted for the alley.

Just as he entered it, feeling the elation of escape, he bounced backwards, falling to the ground with a sharp gasp. Looking up, he saw boots, gray worn pants, and a barrel chest covered with a charcoal tunic. A dagger in his hand and a gleam in his eye, the man offered him a hand up.

“I was starting to worry, Danny, you should have been back over an hour ago.”

“Old man wouldn’t go to sleep, sir, had to wait him out.” He took his master’s hand and dragged himself off the ground, handing over his precious cargo.

“A couple more of these and you’ll be a journeyman, Dan, just a couple more.”