There in broad day light.
The ceiling windows shone the rays of a defining sun.
The orb shone is places that everyone focused on and the moon shaded the sections no one paid attention to.
But opposites attract.
There Un stood out.
Black trench latex coat and boots.
Black hair like stained red wine.
Her iries champagne and the creases like shadows of the met gala.
Her plump lips glossed, like they were painted with black berries and a cigar lounging at the side.
It looked like she was in a black n white movie.
Amongst the colourful people who walked around the museum.
The British museum.
One of the world's famous thievery house.
Open to anyone.
Wondering around.
Sculptures sideyed her.
Paintings stared.
Artifacts followed her.
Exhibits gave the cold shoulder.
The cameras watched and twitched.
Everyone knows they watched.
She acted like it didn't bother her.
She was vip.
She could do anything she wanted to.
There a couple to the left of her with a beautiful famliy.
Blue slushy in one hand a cup of water in the other.
The daughter held, grinning.
Coughing.
It went down one of the daughters wrong hole.
Bingo.
A distraction.
There was it.
Stepping over the barrier.
No alarm.
Reaching and pulling the painting in the era 1569 of the wall.
She scanned.
Any clues.
The thinking pose sculpture turned its head to see what she was doing.
People around froze.
What was she doing?