Visual Dare #26
The discordant footfalls of scurrying pedestrians hummed impatiently below. Interspersed by hostile apologies as shuffling coats occasionally collided, daring jeers by pickpockets darting across the pavement, and the overbearing moans from the sidelines of faded taxis.
The flash of a copper arrested his attention from the continuous writhing of the streets. Quiet eyes fixed to the twitching wires of a moustache, waiting as the man declared the destination he sought with an air of importance.
"O'er there 'cross the overpass two slabs t'ya left"
Grinning with pride he caught the copper in his palm, watching the man blur into the rush of bodies, searching for the next disorientated stranger to approach his signpost.
word count: 110
keep hold of your pride,