Happily skipping along, Daya twirled around as she jumped into the air, causing her to bump into a middle-aged man.
"I'm so sorry sir!" She exclaimed and kept walking. Smirking, the sly 14-year-old pulled the gold-plated watch out of her pocket. Scanning the lakeside, Daya saw a bunch of skaters, hanging around a park bench and giggled about the little thought she just had.
Ducking into a public toilet, she emerged as a completely different person. Her brown wig was nowhere in sight and her long, luscious black hair swayed around her waist. She had blue contacts, contrasting her now no-makeup, glowing face. She started jogging, as if to go past the group of teenage boys, but slowed her pace when she came near them. Smiling teasingly she walked through the middle of them, slowly spinning, eyeing each of them-specifically their wrists and necks. She coyly walked up to one of the boys, snaking her hand to the back of his neck and pulling him close so that their lips were only centimeters away from each other. All the other boys jeered, and cat-called. Before he could make contact she pushed herself away from him, her hand now wrapped around his wrist. She released her grip and swiveled around, continuing her jog but glanced back, like she wanted him to think she wanted him.
Laughing, Daya pulled the gold chain and watch out of her pocket. It probably wasn't real, but it would still fetch a fair price. Inserting her loot into the hidden pocket of her jacket, she headed toward the markets. It was easy picking what she wanted for breakfast and which rich, entitled person she would hustle next.
After a nice, 10 minute run in the fresh, late morning air, Daya arrived at the busy marketplace. The smell of spice and herbs overloaded her sense of smell. She surveyed a small area of the market and spotted a tall man wearing a trench coat. The briefcase he carried shone in the sun. Targeting him directly she strolled along, stopping now and then to inspect different goods. In small thefts like these, it was good to wait and observe first. Inspecting an apple, she saw in the corner of her eye, the rich man bent down, like he was going to tie his shoelaces but then he slipped something into his shoes. 'That's gotta be something valuable.' Daya thought. The young girl slipped the apple into her pocket while quickly, and simultaneously picking another one up, she smiled at the stall-keeper. Placing the apple she just picked up, back on the stall, she ambled along the path bumping into many busy people, swiping a watch from a short, plump lady, her nimble hands reaching into different pockets at the same time but coming up empty. Reaching the rich man, she took a bite out of the recently stolen apple and let it fall to the ground near his feet. Quickly bending down she called out five-second rule and stood up, the hundred dollar bill from his sock, now in her clenched fist. The apple was now dirty and the man looked at her incredulously.
"You're not going to eat that are you?" Staring at the now bruised apple. Daya laughed.
"No Sir. Not at all." And threw it in the bin. "Good day sir," Daya said and strode away.
Arrived under the bridge where she slept now and then, Daya saw that it had been trashed again