Rose:

Rose liked to steal things. She never really considered it stealing because she thought once she got a collection of things, someone would but them in a museum. Eventually, those people would thank her. She never stole big things. She never took things which were large in monetary value. She never walked off with a television, or a computer or car.

Little by little Rose collected the small things. Some would say it's the little, it's the small things that matter most. She used to smoke, but she quit. She used to be a pretty girl and she used to have fun. She doesn't know she's still a pretty girl.

Rose looks for things to steal. She doesn't happen upon them, she seeks them out. But it's her desire to be passionate. Inside her exists a large burden to the world. One day, she will make her mark on someone or a group. They will be forever entranced by her collection of objects. Playing cards, lawn ornaments, Catholic icons, shoe laces, silver dollars, lengths of rope, keys to locks, and the locks themselves. They would all combine into a divine installation one day. She knows people are endeared by her now, but she's always working for something.

This is what makes this kind of stealing ok.

On a 14' by 14' square of robust white painted peg board she hangs her objects. She has genuine deep down love for all of them, and sometimes she takes them down. One by one she whispers why. If the one neon red shoe lace could actually know how she felt. It would be the most special shoe lace in the world. If only she could express herself in the way the virgin mary candle would understand. If God knew it to, she surely would be shown mercy.

If mercy is what she wants, than God will give it to her.

She was in a shop one day when she saw James. She seemed to instantly recognize James' love for his tools that he delivered. She noticed the care he put into his job and he saw the shine of the tools. The tattered red cloth hanging from his waste was used to wipe off the grime of his tools, and to make them presentable.

"Morning."

She looked up and he noticed her. He noticed her. She wasn't seeking approval from him. He wasn't God. He noticed her, without her clamoring for attention which people maybe thought she did. But James, the big lug, the unassuming clod, saw something. God knew what exactly James saw, but no one else did.

Not even Rose.

The door clanged shut. She walked over to where James had been. She stepped in his spots. She examined the counter where the tools sat. "Where are those tools?" she thought. Slinking up and down the 7' tall isles she saw the extension cords, she saw the extra fuses, and she saw the extra blades for the boxcutters. Anything in this humble shop could be used to her advantage.

When she reached the wall where James' deliveries hung, she examined them. She saw the hammer, the saw, the crowbar and the nails. Reaching towards the saw, she unattached the blade. This was a good one. Two things in one. A blade and a saw handle. They could hang as two separate pieces.