...Payed for His Life By: Usman Quddus Khan The sun glaring through the window woke me up. I got out of bed and got dressed. I proceeded into the kitchen where I ate cold cereal for breakfast, just like every morning for the past 3 years. It was time to go to work. I stepped outside and walked at a leisurely pace down Malcolm Ave. It was the best time of year for my line of work: the summer when all of the tourists came to New York. I got to the city square, and as usual, the very same cliques were there, and in numbers today. 'It looks to be a very good day,' I thought as I smiled to myself. I saw a white man in his late 30's. Guessed he looked kind of lost. 'Perfect,' I thought to myself. “Time to work.” I calmly and confidently stepped up to the man. "Hello, sir. Can I help you?" "Yes. I am looking for the Malcolm Hotel." "Yes, yes... Oh, okay. Go three blocks down, and take a right. It will be on your left. You can't miss it" "Thank you." "You're welcome. Have a good day sir." I walked away with not only a smile on my face, but with the man's wallet in my pocket. I opened it up to see 48 dollars, a Discover, and a MasterCard. A couple of hours and 4 wallets later, I decided to get lunch. So far, I had acquired 6 credit cards, 726 dollars, and several patent leather, hand-made Italian billfolds. I decided to go to my favourite place a little bistro called daVinci's. They have the best pizza. But then, I saw the man. He was about 6 feet tall, with a dark chocolate...
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