He couldn’t fight, couldn’t farm, cook, keep books, keep
stock, teach, or fuck. All he had was his mouth, and an ability to spin a yarn,
just long enough.
She could fight, but she preferred to get things over with
quickly, so every day she trained with a hidden blade, if she could.
Often she couldn’t, as the two would be in a new town,
running the same old scams. The distressed lady in a back alley, the tourist
needing assistance, the wealthy widower scam…
Every day, they’d swear they hated the other one.
Some scams you pull on yourself.
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