The Thief, The Whistle-blower and the Mad men.

just a little over 15

yet frozen steep in wantoness and waywardness,

there she sat with the purse she had made away with

staring me in the face with emotions that said:

“hey, whats your business”,

“dare me if you can”

dared her I most assuredly did.

 

there he was alighting, oblivious

yet deprived of his livelihood. he got down

and that was it.

 

back in the moving bus,

she kept on staring at me daring…

just then, I asked “why did you remove his purse?”

and she signalled to me in an almost whisper,

“forget you saw it”

(how do i forget such?)

I asked again,

“why did you pick his purse?”

and then she who dared me said

I did not pick any purse!

I saw red instantly.

 

I was about to show her the stuff I am made from.

then the driver curiously turns and asks,

“madam, what happened?”

then I simply told tale.

I wouldn’t have. Or would I?

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