A short time later I found myself sitting in a comfortable subway car seat, waiting for the train to take off. Now I know what you’re thinking. Train cars aren’t really that comfortable, but compared to the hard steel bed of the train car, this felt like luxury. Time seemed to pass by quickly. Soon, I found myself being ushered off of the train and though the buy terminal. Near the far right of the terminal, the Hobo stopped me short. “Wait here, and only come when I call you.”

Before I could ask why, he was gone. Looking around me, I took in the sights of the terminal. To be honest there wasn’t much to see. But to a country cat, such as myself, this was a lot to take in. In the center of the terminal, there were the vendors that occupied the outer four walls. One particular stall caught my attention, though to be more precise the smell of deep-fried mice, is what caught my noses attention. My stomach growled. Digging through my pockets, I found that I only had a few rubles, that the Hobo had gifted me, before we had left the station.  Sizing up the vendor, I saw that I had just enough to afford a quarter of a mouse plate. Standing in line, I waited till it was my turn, then handed the cashier my coins. When her back was turned, I grabbed the closest dish and ran before I was noticed. I heard a little up cry as I hurried away. But I didn’t dare turn around.

Ducking behind one of the numerous pillars that decorated the terminal, I began stuffing the food into my mouth as fast as I could, grimacing as the hot meat singed my lips.

“You know,” a voice hissed in my ear. “It’s not nice stealing someone else’s food. Especially when it’s the hand that could very well end up feeding you.”