SimonW
Well-known member
World Of Wonders
(chapter 1, part 1…)
Chapter 1: Believing The Impossible
The stage of World Of Wonders sat as an inconsequential building, the faded marquee adorned with dust and grime from the deserted playhouse of fifteen years. One would naturally pass it by without a second glance. But today was a day unlike any other. For a simple thief was being chased within the side street where the World Of Wonders building was situated. Without much thought, the young boy had stolen a purse of gold pieces from an affluent gentleman and had ducked into the side street with the hefty footfalls of the local police hot on his heels. It was almost a marvel that the new recruits that had been trained for this very scenario had not caught the young boy. Thievery had grown rampant in the recent years and the young criminal population is a festering nest of street rats and thugs.
Maverick, as the young pickpocket was called, chanced a glance backwards. The young officers had their trudgeons out and would be gaining upon him if not for the fact they had tripped over each other in their pursuit. Renewed with the knowledge he had ample time, Maverick halted for a second as the officers were distracted and opened the blacked out door of this strange building. He almost expected the door to be locked or at least stuck from old age but was surprised to find it had opened with ease as he pulled the handle open.
Hastily making his way inside without a second thought, Maverick entered the darkened room ahead and shut the door firmly behind himself. Maverick absconded into a shadowed portion of the doorway, so not to be seen by the officers outside as he heard their footfalls stop within the side street.
The sound of the policemen’s shoes retreating down the street made the young thief sigh in relief until he heard the doorknob rattle beside himself.
One of the policemen was gazing into the darkened room with his face pressed against the murky glass of the doorway. With bated breath, Maverick stood stock still until the face was gone, a mere irritated tap from the cosh against the supposedly now locked door of the building before the policeman retreated to catch up with his fellow officers.
Now he felt at ease within this strange building, the eleven year old thief slid down against the shadowed wall he was against in relief. He did not even question his surroundings, nor even the fact he was able to enter a now locked building that he had no trouble getting into a few seconds earlier. Maverick just glanced down at the small red velvet purse of ill gotten gains in his left hand with a self satisfied smirk. He lightly tossed it up and caught it again within his left hand.
Maverick knew he was a sneak thief, he grew up on the streets hearing it from everybody that took the time of day to notice him. Not that he was very noticeable at all really. Standing at a reasonable four and a half feet, he was a sickly looking child with barely enough to get by. One would say he was a beggar, but that was not Maverick’s style. He stole what he could, not letting society tell him any different. His mousey brown hair and brown eyes were not a remarkable feature, nor his simple brown clothing. He did regularly wash them in the canal, not that it did much to get the street grime off, no matter how hard he scrubbed. The only fabric he wore under his brown garments was a simple cotton pantaloons and simple vest that was light and airy so he would not be bare chested or naked in the streets. Simple clog boots made up his ensemble attire. Maverick saw no need for anything fancy to wear. Even a simple cap would, he reckoned, slow him down when on the run from anybody that was chasing him.
With the sachet purse in his hands, Maverick untied the simple pull strings and emptied the contents of the coin purse in front of him, letting the coins clatter upon the old tiled floor. The coins shone brilliantly upon the dusty floor, a stark golden contrast of the gray tiles. There were at most ten to fifteen gold coins, a good score if ever Maverick could call it. Definitely more than he had seen on the crowded streets. Still smiling at his great haul, Maverick began scooping up the gold pieces until he had nearly filled them back within the coin purse.
( to be continued…)
(chapter 1, part 1…)
Chapter 1: Believing The Impossible
The stage of World Of Wonders sat as an inconsequential building, the faded marquee adorned with dust and grime from the deserted playhouse of fifteen years. One would naturally pass it by without a second glance. But today was a day unlike any other. For a simple thief was being chased within the side street where the World Of Wonders building was situated. Without much thought, the young boy had stolen a purse of gold pieces from an affluent gentleman and had ducked into the side street with the hefty footfalls of the local police hot on his heels. It was almost a marvel that the new recruits that had been trained for this very scenario had not caught the young boy. Thievery had grown rampant in the recent years and the young criminal population is a festering nest of street rats and thugs.
Maverick, as the young pickpocket was called, chanced a glance backwards. The young officers had their trudgeons out and would be gaining upon him if not for the fact they had tripped over each other in their pursuit. Renewed with the knowledge he had ample time, Maverick halted for a second as the officers were distracted and opened the blacked out door of this strange building. He almost expected the door to be locked or at least stuck from old age but was surprised to find it had opened with ease as he pulled the handle open.
Hastily making his way inside without a second thought, Maverick entered the darkened room ahead and shut the door firmly behind himself. Maverick absconded into a shadowed portion of the doorway, so not to be seen by the officers outside as he heard their footfalls stop within the side street.
The sound of the policemen’s shoes retreating down the street made the young thief sigh in relief until he heard the doorknob rattle beside himself.
One of the policemen was gazing into the darkened room with his face pressed against the murky glass of the doorway. With bated breath, Maverick stood stock still until the face was gone, a mere irritated tap from the cosh against the supposedly now locked door of the building before the policeman retreated to catch up with his fellow officers.
Now he felt at ease within this strange building, the eleven year old thief slid down against the shadowed wall he was against in relief. He did not even question his surroundings, nor even the fact he was able to enter a now locked building that he had no trouble getting into a few seconds earlier. Maverick just glanced down at the small red velvet purse of ill gotten gains in his left hand with a self satisfied smirk. He lightly tossed it up and caught it again within his left hand.
Maverick knew he was a sneak thief, he grew up on the streets hearing it from everybody that took the time of day to notice him. Not that he was very noticeable at all really. Standing at a reasonable four and a half feet, he was a sickly looking child with barely enough to get by. One would say he was a beggar, but that was not Maverick’s style. He stole what he could, not letting society tell him any different. His mousey brown hair and brown eyes were not a remarkable feature, nor his simple brown clothing. He did regularly wash them in the canal, not that it did much to get the street grime off, no matter how hard he scrubbed. The only fabric he wore under his brown garments was a simple cotton pantaloons and simple vest that was light and airy so he would not be bare chested or naked in the streets. Simple clog boots made up his ensemble attire. Maverick saw no need for anything fancy to wear. Even a simple cap would, he reckoned, slow him down when on the run from anybody that was chasing him.
With the sachet purse in his hands, Maverick untied the simple pull strings and emptied the contents of the coin purse in front of him, letting the coins clatter upon the old tiled floor. The coins shone brilliantly upon the dusty floor, a stark golden contrast of the gray tiles. There were at most ten to fifteen gold coins, a good score if ever Maverick could call it. Definitely more than he had seen on the crowded streets. Still smiling at his great haul, Maverick began scooping up the gold pieces until he had nearly filled them back within the coin purse.
( to be continued…)
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