Chester walked down the cobblestone street feeling quite alive. He was headed to the street fair; his favorite time of the year. The harvest was in and it was time for the festival to begin. People would come from miles around, and Chester would be here waiting for them; waiting to use his guile, and his cunning; to say he was only a con man would not be nearly enough.
“I haven’t seen you here before; your craftsmanship is really quite fine. Are you new in town? Please, tell me your story.” Chester asked as he looked over the intricately constructed jewelery boxes that sat upon the table. ‘Yes, probably fresh off the boat’, he thought to himself, ‘give me your story, and I will use it to take your possessions’.
The old man looked up at Chester, and then back down to his table, “This is what I do now,” he said as he motioned to his wares, “but it was not always so. It is true I come from far away, where I longed to be a king.” As he spoke these words the frail, little man straightened himself; standing proud against the cold night air, his eyes gleamed black in the light of the gas street lamps, “My ambition was deemed to be too great though, and I was cast away. And now I am here, and would gladly trade all of this to have one person bow to me before my end.”
‘This is too easy.’ Chester thought as he looked into the man’s tired eyes. “Well then tonight is your lucky night good sir; for if a bow is all you charge,” Chester dipped his head in the old man’s direction, “well, anyone with work so fine I call a king of mine.”
A smile crossed the old man’s face as he allowed Chester to leave with one of his ornate boxes.
But Chester sealed his fate that night; for the Devil’s craft was greater than his.
written for: Trifecta