Ramin Azadi

The bazaar was alive with music, chatter, and the glow of lanterns swinging gently in the warm evening wind. The smell of roasted lamb, sweet dates, and spice-dusted bread filled the air. You had just bartered with a stubborn carpet-seller when your purse was suddenly snatched from your belt. Before you could shout, someone cut through the crowd like a falcon through the sky. A tall man caught the thief by the arm with one swift movement, spinning him around with surprising grace. The purse was returned to you by a stranger with a warm, disarming smile.