The man in black moseyed across the Main Drag, and the pickpocket followed. Not too close, and not quite precise–the pickpocket wandered and weaved and pretended to read his folded-up Cenotaph on the move–but the man in black never left his sights. He had chosen a tough mark for his Mark, or at least a tough … Continue reading Raining And Reigning In Little Aleppo