Sunset. The beauty of it so striking, so vivid, that it practically screams to be looked at. The air stands still and even the most talkative bird shuts up for this one moment every day. A flaming red sun paints the sky in hues of pink and red as well as shades of majestic yellow, painting the sleepy streets coated in snow a wonderfully warm shade of gold. Yet, amid all of the splendor, amid all of the beauty, only one stops to appreciate the amazing display of art mother nature is putting on for the enjoyment of all. The small, dirty, blonde child doesn't stand still and look for long, no its too cold for that. He keeps moving, looking for a likely targets pocket to pick.
The child sees a good candidate: a woman with a fox fur around her large shoulders, several golden rings on her fat fingers, and a satiny, fur lined coat barely holding her tremendous girth. He races forward in a flash and grabs the bag that had been hanging from her thick wrist, so temptingly. She screeches at him to stop and swipes at him with her free hand, but too slow. The little blonde boy is already gone with his loot leaving the street, except for the churned footprints in the snow, as if he had never been there.
Dodging down a side ally and hurdling along the length of the path, he comes to a fork in his path, but not hesitating for an instant he takes the left one, running a ways, and then springing into a crack in the wall. Suddenly, almost as if he had walked through a door into a different world, he was surrounded by perforated green light, shining gently through the spreading leaves above his head. He smiles walking through out the ancient, serene forest, his long blonde hair, unwashed for the longest time, swaying with his gently set pace. He was purposely walking slow, of course, he had all the time in the world. They didn't expect him until much later that night and with a much smaller prize. He stops, remembering the purse for the first time in a while. He opens it, to find it filled with womanly things. A few, long tubes wrapped in paper (girls you know this one all too well even if he doesn't), a couple of thin squares of some spongy material (again, too familiar), chap stick, a note pad, a pen... the list seemed to be endless as the number of items on the ground grew quickly.
"How does she fit all of this in her purse, hmm?!," he asked in frustration," It doesn't look this big on the outside. This looked like an easy snag, hmm!"
Finally, in frustration he upended it over the ground near his feet (he was sitting cross-legged on the ground) and searched through the considerable pile, knocking things aside, and tossing things he deemed 'useless' in a pile behind him. This pile contained the plastic wrapped tubes, thin squishy squares, and many other feminine hygiene products. After a considerably short time he seems to find what he's looking for. With a cry of "jackpot" he holds up a small bulging, wallet-like item, and, after opening it and seeing the large sum of money inside, decides that this is definitely what he's looking for. After scooping up all of the items he had tossed and/or thrown out of the bag back into their holder, he sets off into the forest.
Compared to the weather in the city, the forest is gentle and sunny, if not warm. There isn't a single trace of snow on the ground, and , even though in the city the sun was setting, it was noon. The difference in time and temperature didn't seem to phase the boy, though he did take off his raged sweatshirt and tie it around his waist. He also didn't seem to have any certain direction he was headed in either, no his path meandered between trees, over rocks, through streams, under branches, and other various features of a forest in full spring. Flowers were trampled and grass bent as he beat a path through the seemingly untouched forest. He seemed to be paying more attention now as he searched for something a little above his eye line. Finally, a red mark appeared on a tree ahead. He raced towards it, taking out a pair of strange, sleek glasses that were as out of place in the forest as he was at a high class party.
Sliding them on he seemed a bit shocked at the difference of the two areas and almost seemed tempted to remove the strange eye wear from the bridge of his nose. He refrained, however, taking in the truth of the place he was in. Instead of beautifully gurgling streams, there were sludge filled gullies and craters, but they seemed to be in the correct place. Where mighty, trees had towered seconds before, large poles jutted at awkward angles as well as war-torn pieces of rubble tearing holes in an already horrid picture. The formerly mossy rocks were gone, replaced by, jagged pieces of cars and buildings as well as other, more grisly things. The small boy shook himself, thinking that even if it was awful, it was the truth.