The enraged musician

People where everywhere in the street. The music was flowing from all sides, each "musician" trying to make more noise than the one next to him. A real madness. It was nearly too easy for her then, every single one distracted by the cacophony.

She had beautiful black gloves, but no one looked at them. Not even when she slipped a graceful, tiny hand into some old woman pocket. Not much, a couple of rusty coins. She said hello to a baby while taking a few ribbons out of his mother's dress.

She stood paralyzed half a second when a young boy ran into her, but he continued his way purchasing some ill-looking dog.

She wore her most beautiful dress and lots of jewelry that once belonged to someone else. The perfect camouflage. The man at her arm, her fiancée, had no idea of what was going on right before his eyes. And he never questioned her obvious wealth: she was after all a very busy woman.