It has been a long time since my last post due to how crazy school has been. Between DNA models and a student council speech earlier today I haven’t had much time to write. However, I have written for school so I might as well post that. We had to write a one-page story for English. After I came up with the concept that she steals books to make a living I then had to find a way to title it without naming it the Book Theif (an amazing book) so after a few minutes of brainstorming, I was left with the Knowledge Pickpocket. Hope you enjoy it!

As I steal through the night, I make sure to stick to the shadows. A well-timed breeze pushes the window ajar, giving me a way in.  I slip through the opening into a wealth of papers, and I start my plundering. Book after book makes its way into my roomy, black bag, but I eventually reach the limit that my arms can bear because I still must make my way out. Carefully, I take my loot out the same way I entered. As swiftly as I can, I make my way back to what I call my ‘Hoard of Knowledge.’ My fortress isn’t much, mainly a few wooden crates and thick blankets hidden in an abandoned alley. However, it’s my home. Here I am truly at peace, for I am able to peruse my new treasures. Eventually, I avert my gaze to my next plan. Although each strike is carefully crafted, it is abandoned if I find that my mark is just as admiring of their riches. I know the feeling of something beloved being ripped from you. Instead, I design my heists for those who don’t know the riches they possess, the ones who don’t truly appreciate the beauty and edge under their fingertips. For me, it is survival, something that is necessary and vital since it is my one and only advantage in a world that punishes so cruelly. I go through the new additions and put those that are duplicates into a pile. My ‘Bookworms’ as I call them will take them tomorrow morning to find those willing to purchase them. They are young, lost souls I found wandering, much like I was. They were yearning for something, but not knowing what. In the end, it turned out to be knowledge itself. I grab a novel that caught my eye when I was sorting and stare at it for a moment. It is gorgeous, with an aquamarine leather cover and gold embellishments. As I make my way over to my makeshift bed of stolen covers and discarded mattresses, I crack open the work of art. My eyes drift across the yellowed pages. When those same eyes drift shut, I fall into a peaceful slumber, and I begin to dream of what treasures tomorrow will bring.