Thief

Languishing in the park on a lazy afternoon, singles and couples make up a crowd. Dispersed around the grassy banks, on the benches, on the rocks by the lake. Drowsy and baking slowly in the heat. Even the breeze across the lake is warm. I lean back on the grass, feeling its lush blades soft beneath my fingers.

He saunters into view on stick-thin legs, scarecrow with graffiti shorts telling the world where to go. Black hoodie covering his face despite the heat, revealing only shadows. Wanders over to where a woman sits, back against a tree, reading towards the lake. Her bicycle propped against the back of the tree, unwatched. 

Bold as broad daylight, he takes the handlebars and starts walking off.

The noise rouses her and she shoots up, confronting. From this distance I can only imagine what is said, body language speaking volumes. She takes a step back, hands raised in defence as he replies. A brief conversation ensues, and bicycle thief props the bike back up against the tree. Saunters off up the bank, not a care in the world. Towards the top of the bank he looks around, stretching, seeking his next opportunity.

Trust in the world damaged, the woman moves her bicycle next to her, in sight. The thief failed to steal her bicycle, but took something far more precious.