A Meaningless Legacy

The sun was hitting the pavement with unusual intensity, but it wasn’t particularly hot. People shuffled through the streets, dodging cars, bikes and fellow residents of the metropolis. The lad sauntered ahead while obliviously staring at the pavement with a shy expression. He came to a halt at the intersection as the lights flickers on to illustrate an intimidating red hand. He sighed.

“I know. I know. Don’t mention it. Only an idiot would get caught.” A moody lady murmured to her phone. She listened to her mother’s sententious speech while grimacing at everyone who glanced at her. She fixed her humble bracelet before echoing back, “I know over a dozen of people lost their things, but there are thieves everywhere and no one is making a big deal.” Only an idiot would fall victim, she thought. I’m smarter than that.A few rhythmical beeps echoed. The red hand turned white, and the people spilled onto the streets. The lad had a defeated look of someone who suffered a great loss. His downcast eyes were attentively staring at the ground.

The lady continued her cacophonous monologue. “Right! I know!” The girl finally hung up before rushing down the crosswalk. Staring into her phone, she nearly lost her balance as she run ahead by the lad. Her pace was quick, and she soon vanished in the crowd.

The lad eyed the clock that was stuck to one of the buildings, before realizing all the monitors in the town square were playing the same video. They were showing a picture of a blond lad that lost his life in a car crash. The lad had a kind expression, soft features, and long hair. The reported made a solemn face as pictures of the wreckage appeared on the screen. The 2015 Chevy Corvette was burning, and much of its original features were lost, turning it into an almost unrecognizable chunk of metal.

Strolling down the street, he was passing an obscure restaurant when a gentlemen leaped out on the street. The lad retreated as the gentleman paid no attention to him and nearly hit him with his enormous, leather briefcase.

The gentleman had a lavish suit, his gray-blue tie was wrapped tightly around his neck, nearly relinquishing him of his breath. He held the case under his arm as he dug into his pocket to answer the phone. His other hand held an inelegantly wrapped hamburger. His expensive watch reflected the sunlight.

“Hello boss, I’ll be right there!” He gasped for air. “Yes, I’m late but it’s this city’s fault.”

“No excuses!” An ardent declaration thundered from the phone’s speaker.

“I will be right there. I’ll be careful. I won’t lose the paperwork.” Hearing the mention of the thief made him look proud. The man snickered before hanging up. He came to a stop when the lad bumped into his shoulder. “Watch it!”

The lad walked a few blocks before turning into a tranquil alley. He searched the pockets of his trousers. With a worrisome look, he patted his vest. He had an utterly desperate look. He searched his pockets until he reached the inner pocket of his vest. One by one, he tosses the items: the humble bracelet, expensive watch, the paperwork and a few other things. As he was ready to relax, he saw a man staring at him. The uniform made it obvious; it was a policeman. Silently the lad turned around, and sprinted thought the narrow alleyway, knocking down a few trashcans and bicycles before soaring into broad light. The determined policeman chased after him, dodging the obstacles, and just when he thought that he had him, the sun stuck his eyes. He lost visual contact, and within a fraction of a second the lad was gone. The policeman looked in every direction. Nothing.

“Did you see a blond lad? He run out of the alley?” He asked a young couple.

They denied.

He turned to an elderly man. “Excuse me, sir. Did you see a blond lad? Serious expression, soft features, and long hair?”

He denied.

“Did anyone see a blond lad leaving the alley?” No one answered.

After wasting half an hour questioning people, he gave up and returned to the alley where he found the loot. Collecting everything, he pondered, “Why are you doing this?”

A gust of wind passed through the backstreet. “So that people would remember me.” A frail whisper echoed behind the policeman. He pivoted around in fear. Losing balance, he fell forwards. His hands hit the ground where he found his bullets. He checked his gun to see they were his.

“Too bad they won’t remember the blond lad…they’ll only remember a thief.” He murmured.


So there you have it, my first short story. On the most basic level, I hope that visitors enjoyed the read. I mean, that’s the most essential part of something like this. I also await feedback, so comments, suggestions are welcomed.

Thanks for reading.

Patrick Rain

 

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