I’d been tracking this elusive character all over the world for two years now. Everywhere he hit, he left a photograph bearing the legend “always smile! PONY BROWN” as a calling card. After banging my head against the wall as to whether there was some clue in this, I’d come to the conclusion that he just had a collection of the things, and leaving them at the scene was just his way of saying “I was here!” — a thumb to the nose to those like me who would try to track him down.
I had no idea of the physical attributes of my quarry, even after all this time. I’d filled notebook after notebook with evidence from bystanders, and nothing — not one solitary thing — struck a chord between them. My target may as well have been a ghost.
But his arrogance would be his undoing: I’d at last spotted a pattern in his movements that led me to believe I could get the drop on him. Having determined his next objective, I set my trap and lay in wait. His days were numbered.
But then the hit happened anyway — and I finally realised the Pony Brown heister was me.
Word count: 199
Prompt: What do you see # 32- 1st June 2020