A Tail of Two Cities

 

Sitting here now, under a bush, sheltering from the rain it feels a bit surreal, but the last few days have been strange. A couple of weeks ago I was homeless and cold in an unfriendly city, moping about and feeling sorry for myself. And now here I am, in another city tucking into burger and chips under a bush. You’d think I’d be unhappy, but I’m not.

The thing is, I’m a thief. I can’t help myself. I’ll steal anything. I’d like to say I steal to feed my family I don’t. I steal because I’m hungry, or greedy. People mostly ignore me or walk away in disgust. I repulse them. I don’t know why. People are odd.

It was on one of my nightly scavenges that set me on a new path and brought me here. I found a book. Not just any book, but a book of dreams. A book of hope. It told of a place called London, and a chap by the name of Fagin who sounded like just the man I needed to see. From what I could gather, this fellow ran a band of thieves who went around London stealing things for him, and in return they got a warm bed and a hot meal, every day. Perfect. London seemed to be full of beggars and scavengers, just like me. I thought how amazing that would be, so I resolved to hop on the next train and make my way to London.

The station is a lovely place to steal a few tasty things, so its on my regular scavenging route. No one takes any notice of me; they are all too busy rushing around. So before long I found myself dodging the crowds looking for the train to London. And yes, I can read before you ask. I maybe homeless but I’m not stupid. The train took forever, so I sat in the corner of the carriage dozing. No one even gave me a second glance. I thought about what I would say to Mr Fagin when I met him. I dreamed of the city full of beggars and market traders and the little band of kids I would join. Most of all, I dreamed of the warm bed every night.

Now, here’s the rub. London was nothing like the book at all. Firstly, there were cars and buses everywhere. People rushing around. No one was friendly, not one bit. I found a young lad on a street corner and asked if he knew where I could find Mr Fagin, but he just laughed at me and scampered off. What a disappointment. Then it started to rain. I found a bush and sat down. Next thing I know someone drops a bag, on my head. A bag containing burger and chips. Like pennies from heaven.

So, I’m here, eating well and sleeping under a bush. I never found Mr Fagin in the end. Probably best, he wouldn’t have wanted me anyway. Afterall, I’m just a rat.