The market, crammed with a thousand stalls, narrow aisles and crushing crowds, was a pickpocket’s paradise. Following complaints, the police were maintaining a hefty presence.
To avoid them, Clovis changed direction, simultaneously registering the barely perceptible glance of his wallet departing.
He considered a curly headed youth fleeing purposefully through the milling shoppers and when he judged the culprit was far enough away, pressed a button in his pocket.
The panicked shriek and frantic jig of the thief slapping at his spontaneously combusting coat, brought a chuckle.
“Always pleased to help,” he muttered, moving another wallet to his back pocket.
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.