‘OI! Stop you!’
The shape in front of him suddenly veered off to the left, down a dark alley filled with bins and rubbish. The guard nearly overshot it but skidded to a halt and then flew off in pursuit.
He saw his quarry just up ahead. Had he actually caught him up? Not bad for a 50 year old!
Then, as fast as he saw it, it had gone. Vanished. Poof!
He drew to a halt in the last proximity of the figure. To the left were tall skips, filled with the rubbish thrown out of the back of the takeaways whose back entrances filled the alley. A man came from one of those doorways now and, casting a cursory glance at the guard, tossed up a bag of scraps into one of those skips then spitting off to the gutter, he sauntered back through the door, slamming it behind him
To the right of the security guard stood ladders, fire escapes from the apartments which were being pulled down systematically to make way for yuppy housing and antique shops.
He stood, silent, listening for breathing, for any signs of the thief he had seen lifting a wallet from an old boys pocket in the high street.
It was spooky here. He could hear the clatter of pots and pans in the building next to him. Cars behind him in the main road whooshing past on the wet road. It was overcast and dark now and he felt watched.
Backing out of the alley he started back to the shop he’d come from, washing his hands of the whole affair and thinking already of his dinner that night, (cod and chips he hoped)
The thief came out from behind the skip and waited for a few moments.
She threw back her hood and opened the wallet to see what was in it. She grinned when she saw the money and walked off to buy her families food from the local store. She was just glad the old guy hadn’t stolen anything from it when he had taken it from her earlier.
written as part of the Writing Task on Our Arts Magazine http://ourartsmagazine.com/literature/writing-skills-task-188/2018