Pouches of Gold
Flash Fiction, Microfiction, Magic, Monsters, Fantasy
“A coin pouch or two is what I would like. Mouths to feed and all that,” the Urchin lad said to his friend.
“I’m getting me a blade today,” The other boy said, a mouth full of bread.
“Ha, you ain’t got them kinda skill. You’d best be sticking to the grab and run from the bread vendors.”
“I needs me a blade, case that brothel man come scouting again.”
“Just run when you sees him.”
“Nope, it’s the blade for that bastard. He nabbed blue eyes, and I means to avenge her one way or ta other.”
“OK, keep your eyes open. See ya later.”
It was early. Before dawn, the Old City Quarter began churning with the day’s tasks. The two friends parted ways, Giant, the others called him 'cause he was big for a street urchin, they roamed the markets looking for the easy mark, a full pouch slung a little low.
He was hoping to score two today cause he wanted to go to the great square tomorrow and hear the Bard teach. Then he saw a money pouch. It must have fallen from someone’s belt. It lay just inside the alleyway next to the wall. He trotted over a smile on his face. The stench of urine and vomit permeated the air, and a pair of feet were visible under the trash next to the pouch…
