In one of the bustling streets of an old town, a man was walking purposely with steadfast steps. His hands were in the pockets of his long coat, and a hat covered almost half of his face. If anybody were to look at him, nobody would have been able to see his face properly, although he was seeing everything and noting everything. He was patiently waiting in line along with other people at the bus stop when his eyes unintentionally stopped on a lady. Or more like her purse, which she had so naively placed near her feet. His eyes glinted, hands itched. His initial thoughts were too tempting. He would be able to eat better, dress better, will have more time to look for a job instead of wandering here and there on a starved stomach. It is true, that old habits die hard. And Declan had recently paid for his habits. He had, only two weeks ago, been released from the juvenile centre. And now because of the red mark on his records, he was struggling to find a job, struggling to get better. Declan took off his hat and combed his trembling fingers through his hair. His thoughts ran a mile in a moment. Just one more time. Something whispered in his head. The temptation was too strong. And everyone knows a human being is a slave to temptation. Tugging the short hair at the back of his neck almost painfully, Declan slowly slipped away from the line and more towards the lady. It was too easy, too habitual for him to slowly, but surely, slip away the purse from the lady. Declan’s heart thudded loud enough for his ears to hear as he made his way into a dark alley nearby. Scrambling through the contents of the bag with desperate hands, he discarded the useless things hurriedly, tissues, bus tickets, receipts, lip gloss and finally reached for what he was looking for — money! It was quite a handful. Enough for him to enjoy the next few weeks at least. But his heart became gloomy suddenly, all thoughts came rushing back. The smile her mother had given him when he had returned even though he had disappointed her so badly. The trust she had put in him. Again. Another chance he was given to set his life straight. How can he even think and act on his old habits again when he had promised himself during the dark and lonely nights in the juvenile correction centre to be better? His eyes suddenly went towards the lady who was now desperately looking for her lost purse. She might need it more than me. It can be someone’s hospital fees. Someone’s education fees. This money belongs to someone more deserving than me. It took him seconds to decide again. Too much was at stake, he wouldn’t risk it again. He won’t. And then quickly all the belongings were stuffed back in the bag. And just as Declan had skilfully managed to steal the purse, he slipped it in its place again and walked away. He heard cries of relief behind him. His heart and steps felt lighter. Tugging at the hairs at the back of his neck, he decided to go home to his mother. That day he never told her what happened, but he sobbed like a child in her lap, asking for forgiveness, requesting another chance to be better, promising to never disappoint her again. After that day, more days and months and years passed, he never broke his promise again.