The thick coins clunked against my purse, thick as thieves. The rain beat down against the strands of my clumpy, matted hair. I checked for a sign of life down the street, and found none. Only a market covered in sand, empty.

I fingered the coins, feeling the [rims of the] gold on my fingertips. I adjusted my cloak, tweaking it. Then I ran my fingers along the fabric of my shirt, fingering the round buttons.

I took a step, and my foot sank into sand. It touched my skin, the particles of a million things the world wants to show me. The light of the faraway guarded city drew close to my eyes, touching the pulsing veins underneath my [hot, hot] skin. The glow of the buildings seemed to slice through the night air and sky, whispering to me. Pulling me with its promises.

I went forward, to race with the world in a competition that only I can see. With an adventure lining the edges of my lips, waiting for me.

It didn’t have to wait very long.

[*The phrase “thick as thieves” comes from the author Danceinsilence*]