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Split pockets.

11.07.23 – Cha’grish

We were told to beg, borrow, and steal. That nothing welded down was fair game for idle hands and crafty plans. Tracks were covered by stepping softly against the previous prints left by unskilled serpents. We put our fingers into gloves and worried less about getting handcuffed to cursed consequences. Crimes were only written in stone when delivered by judges feeling a higher sense of superiority. Common laws rarely lasted beyond the reach of their puppet strings. Hopping invisible borders was tantamount to reinventing yourself.

Grifts and cons were invented through gritted teeth with fleeting feelings for the swindled. There didn’t have to be a prize in sight, simply a game to play and a side to claim themselves the winner. The pot was always more important than the ante, as any blind hand could be won with charm, luck, and a deep understanding of which rules to bend rather than break. Risk wasn’t a requirement and yet it tangled itself in with every act of larceny. Pinching purses often escalated to grander schemes and riches too thick to carry off.

What remained behind is the incalculable wealth of personal possession. The obsessed leave a lot less. More is desired for those who fill their sacks and give nothing back. These men are not repetitious Robin Hoods slinking through Sherwood for another salacious noble to suffer a reversal of fortune upon. They were footpads placing pain without the worrying of stepping lightly. Gain was granted to those that met the meek and left them weaker than before. That lot was given a worse will to live with, but no threat of theft from those that make their life upon it.

-VGB-