He crept along the outer bank of the highway, hiding from the commuter traffic which streamed back and forth on both sides of the busy road.
It had been too easy, he thought.
Crouching low to the ground, he opened his clenched palm and examined the tiny chip. Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, he held the silver square into the light and gazed at its reflective shimmer. This was real. He had actually taken it, and no one had tried to stop him.
How long would it be before they noticed the data was gone, he wondered.
Long enough for him to cover his tracks and disappear into the ether. He gave himself a day to erase all traces of who he was and where he had been. The merchant wouldn’t even know what he really looked like when the authorities asked for a description of the culprit.
By that point, he would already be someone else.
– Written by Miss A on September 10, 2012