Horror crept up my back like a cold hand when I espied Jack’s hand awkwardly clutching the beautifully beaded purse. He had surreptitiously taken from an old lady who has left it in the shopping basket, and deftly slipped it into his pocket. He had said he wanted to buy some chocolates and made a beeline for the supermarket, which was across the fast food joint we always hung out in every Friday after school. From where I was sitting, I caught a glimpse of him inching up to an old woman. I did not give it much of a thought when I saw it as I was enjoying my quiet idling moments.