well

Where to begin? The events of last week have left me tired, helpless. Like Poe, as he noticed that fateful spot of blood appear on the lip of his beloved Virginia. I start to wonder: to whom have I done wrong? Perhaps the fickle fates have laid upon my shoulders the burdens of my bygone sins? No, I was just being a proactive guy, a man-of-the-times. I gave that poor soul the benefit of the doubt; I crossed onto his side of the street before passing his position mere metres to the west. In return? That motherfucker robbed my ass.
"Ey dogg, ey!" These were the words to stop my tread.
A furtive glance over my left shoulder confirmed my fears.
"Empty your pockets, this ain't no fucking game!"
Alas! Were we not caught, both our roles in this sick game of life entwined in the very same spot, only able to advance had one of us rolled doubles?
As we both stood, stoic in our proverbial Ventnor avenue square, I resolved to do away with the such terminal contemplations and comply with my assailant's will.
I gave him four dollars, which, though to you and I may be a mere pittance, certainly could've afforded him a king's ransom at the dollar menu, for clearly this is why one steals: necessity.
So I kept this in mind as we shuffled together into the nearby bodega, so that he could drain my savings account, surely to purchase food for his kin.
Again, I remained mindful of his situation, wondering to myself what sort of desperation I would succumb to, this deep in the throes of starvation?
As I pulled ten dollars out of the machine, I looked upon my gentleman thief, as he struggled with the latino shopkeep, pointing with a steadfast ardor at what would be the fruits of his labor: thirteen single packed Swedish Fish candies.
He caught my glanced, and feeling compelled to offer some sort of wayward kindness, I applauded his choice, and let him know that swedish fish was, in fact, my favorite confection. It was then that I was convinced of my captor's good nature, as he responded simply:
"Want some of this shit?"
Excited at the prospect of candy I nearly let out a bellowing "Huzzah!" Though I cought myself quickly, and gracefully declined, reminding myself once again of the necessity of his actions.
I was then ushered out by my merry thief, I gave him my ten dollars, and we parted ways. I patted him on the shoulder and thanked the kind man for taking my money.
I was left to walk the way to my home, all the while with the face of that man on my mind.

Oh this is truly the city of kings!