By barski on Skatehive
A thief named Autumn. Going outside and looking around, I involuntarily recalled a moment from my life, when in childhood, in a crowded bus running between the city center and the sea coast in a resort town, I caught a pickpocket red-handed, who with the help of a coin sharpened to a razor-sharp point cut my mother's bag and tried to pull out my wallet. Yes, only later I realized how dangerous it was, but it happened at the moment the bus stopped at another public transport stop and the thief broke free and ran away, getting lost in the crowd. But, I remember his look, in which there was no feeling, no regret, no fear... although, you could say that there was reproach in this look. It's strange, a person who commits a crime reproaches another person for being vigilant and not letting himself be deceived. So, today, autumn, which behaves like a thief, looked at me reproachfully, perhaps. Judging by the yellowed, fallen leaves, autumn has already managed to steal some of August from us a