NOTE: This is a very old piece written back in college. After doing a drawing of Hot-Head, I felt a bit nostalgic for the scene, and decided it was still decent enough to post.
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“’Scuse me, mister.” Dammit! Another zipper-pocket! Didn’t anyone trust the people around them nowadays?
“Watch it, girl,” said the man, not bothering to really look at her. She laughed, not paying attention to him. She wasn’t quite one to talk about trusting people, really. At any rate, she’d have to move down a few blocks and wait at least another twenty minutes, or she’d start looking suspicious. Idly walking with the flow of the crowd, she let herself get lost in thought; however, her stomach growled, reminding her of its neglect. She wasn’t sure she could wait twenty minutes.
She looked around, trying to spot someone self-absorbed enough to make an early run on. It was then she noticed him. The boy looked normal enough, but for the ungodly large stocking cap on his head. Below the cap, she could make out his deep blue eyes. He was hanging around the outdoor produce market, looking this way and that. She kept a cool eye on him as he made hesitant grabs at an apple here, an orange there. She smiled thinly to herself. He was really such an amateur.
