"So, you're saying you're a thief?" The guy empties his glass. "I think you're a liar."
They've been sitting at the counter for more than an hour, and k´no one knows who started talking. Their lives are of no importance, neither are their plans for tomorrow. The air is heavy with smoke and the smell of spilled glasses. It will take a lot of hot water to get that stench off their hair and skin.
She smiles. "If you think so. I'm leaving now." She shrugs, grabs her purse and prepares to leave. "Of course, you could come along and see for yourself." He's really hot, and about the only thing she still needs tonight. Everything else - splendid. That's the word for it.
And he follows her. A few steps behind, as if they don't know each other. She makes her way towards the market place, with all its bars and cafés and restaurants, the place that never rests. Bustling with life. His eyes are on her back, she feels the gaze like a line of wet heat up and down her spine. She knows this might be the beginning of something marvellous.
A guy bumps into her. He's, like, fifty-ish, losing his hair faster than it can turn gray, trying to comb it over the bald spot in this ridiculous post-war fashion. The woman next to him is tiny and fragile, She may be younger than him or twenty years older. Hard to tell. She clings to his arm as he mutters excuses.
"Don't worry", she smiles reassuringly and puts on her calming, innocent face. What do they think she's going to do, beat them to pulp? My, she's just a little girl! She has to force back a giggle.
After the couple has resumed their way - back to their hotel, possibly - the guy catches up with her. "Let me see what you got. His wallet?" He seems excited. She knew he would go for this sort of thing, with his expensive, ragged jeans that he bought looking exactly like this and the worn leather jacket that may have belonged to an uncle or elder brother, and the hunger in his eyes for something - more...
"What would I do with his wallet? I've got something even better."
"A watch? Car keys?"
"Nope." Instead of telling, she opens her left hand just a little bit, and he can see something sparkling. No jewel has ever had that shine.
"What is that?"
"The old man's essence. Energy. His life, if you want. And I know just what to do with it. Want a bit?" She touches him gently with her right hand, fingers trailing from chest over stomach, down... he swallows, and the hunger she can see in his eyes has to hurt... and she knows she has been successful tonight. A life and a soul, and maybe a heart as well.