A Fair Assessment

You called me a thief. A thief takes in secret. I stand in plain daylight right next to the bowl. This morning there was a glazed cinnamon roll sitting on a paper napkin by the toaster. I stood before it, completely still, until the warmth faded just enough. Then I leaned forward. One decisive bite taken directly from the soft, icing-covered edge. It was sweet, sticky, and unquestionably not mine. I swallowed slowly and wiped nothing. If taking what is unguarded makes a thief, then I suppose your assessment is accurate.