The crime:
A sneak attack, the poor cherries dragged out of my bag while I swam. The plastic bag viciously poked and a cherry stolen and flown away.
The thief:
“Who?”
“Me? Whatever, lady.”
The trap:
Ah. The old hide in front of the mussels trick.
Trap #2:
The approach:
The inspection:
Don’t fuss. No tricks. I share.
He ate a bunch more of my cherries, but these ones I offered.
We hung out.
For the last cherry of the day he reverted to his rotten stinking thieving ways and nabbed it off my towel while I swam.
I know I heard him chuckle. Jerk.