Robin and Marian

It was a long way to the Sherwood Apartments complex. Robin smiled, though, as if he found his situation ideal. The bills had been piling up and despite his greatest efforts, he hadn’t been able to find a job.
Robin stuffed his hands in his pockets and blew a strand of hair from his face. “You can’t keep a good man down,” Marian had always insisted, with that quiet, apologetic smile of hers. Robin smiled at the thought. Marian had been feeling down, though, lately.
A man ran past, dropping his wallet as he brushed past Robin.
“Excuse me, sir!” Robin cried after him. The man didn’t hear him because of the whooshing sound the automatic doors made. Robin considered following him, but figured if that man could afford to wear a Valenti suit on the dirty streets, then he could afford to lose his wallet.
Robin tossed the man’s credit cards and driver’s license on the sidewalk and pocketed the $300 from the wallet.
He whistled a bit as he dropped the money into the woman’s dirty coffee cup.

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