It was Sunday, almost noon. The street was busier than it had ever been.
Dusty, The road had a warm stench that could burn one's lungs if inhaled.
Part of the crowd was moving slowly. Some moved as if they were late for an appointment. Others got stuck at stalls erected at the side of the road, selling various products.
It was chaotic, but the crowd moved in one direction like a river, away from the old cathedral where the mass had been held just a couple of minutes ago.
"THIEF!"
It was meant to be a loud scream, yet the noise of the crowd humbled her voice.
But it was enough to pause the scene. All attention turned toward the source of the scream.
Just a glimpse, most even failed to witness what had just happened. Some people saw a short figure with wide silhouette.
Ha… hha… hah...
She was running desperately, against the direction of the crowd. Two men in black suit ran after her.
A couple of people tried to block her, but she evaded them nimbly. Someone lunged for her loose shirt, but he wasn't fast enough. This short figure is leaving street-dustclouds along the way.
Meanwhile, part of the crowd whipped out their phones and started recording the lady. She was crying while her knees on the pavement. Her face familiar is to everyone.
She was none other than the widowed wife of the mayor. She wore a patterned black dress that exuded an expensive aura. Behind her black veil were lips covered in dark lipstick. On her face were black streaks tracing the path of her tears.
....
A couple of meters away from the scene.
What's that commotion? Rico's tried to look as he squinted at the gathering crowd, but his poor eyesight failed him. As Rico came closer, he heard upset murmurs from the vendors.
"It's them again." said the fruit vendor with an exaggerated, bulging belly.
Another voice answered from the neighboring stall. "I wish they'd catch them this time. They're bad for my business."
"F*cking pests!" a man from the crowd muttered.
Rico sighed inwardly. He walked towards the vendor stalls and handed over newspapers in exchange for a beat-up coin with the number 5 and letter P engraved on it.
Meanwhile, only three people decided to approach the lady. The lone female from the group helped her stand up.
"Go now, everyone. Movie's done," one of the two males from the group shoo'd away the people who were recording.
Eventually, the busy street returned to its state. The crowd flowed again and swallowed the scene as though nothing had ever happened.