The policeman was asleep. He cradled his baton neatly between his legs and drooled into his whistle, which had unconsciously fallen from his mouth. If his thumbs had not been safely tucked away in his trouser pockets, one of them may have found its way into his mouth – such is the innocence of a policeman’s dreams.
Now you can think all you like about escape, but the physical act of escaping is generally regarded to be rather more fraught when attempted in the nude. People will tend to notice two naked men running down the street past the post office.
Atom, already predisposed to the wearing of clothes, decided that the policeman’s raincoat, which hung behind the door along with his winter scarf, would serve to cover him well enough for the purpose of escape. No.3, who we should, by rights call Atom 1.1[7] but that would lead to untold confusion - had to make do with a loincloth fashioned from aforementioned winter scarf.
The PO-Box lay on the desk adjacent to the spiky soles of the policeman’s shiny black boots. Atom felt a twinge of nostalgia for the once shiny shoes that he had once owned. He slipped the PO-Box into one of the coat’s voluminous pockets. No.3 (who had never owned anything) appeared to take Atom’s actions as license and began to unlace the policeman’s boots.
“You’re gonna get us into trouble” said Atom in the smallest voice.
The policeman snorted and knuckled his nose wetly, returning the silver whistle guiltily to the corner of his mouth.
“We’re already in trouble,” said No.3 carefully removing the policeman’s boots and donning them himself.
Atom eyed the baton, worrying the painful lump on his head with his fingertips, but could not bring himself to liberate it from the policeman’s superior grasp. He looked at No.3, a bony bearded apparition in woolen loincloth and large black boots; “You’ll blend in nicely”
“Speak for yourself,” said No.3, “You look like a malnourished flasher.”
Now you can think all you like about escape, but the physical act of escaping is generally regarded to be rather more fraught when attempted in the nude. People will tend to notice two naked men running down the street past the post office.
Atom, already predisposed to the wearing of clothes, decided that the policeman’s raincoat, which hung behind the door along with his winter scarf, would serve to cover him well enough for the purpose of escape. No.3, who we should, by rights call Atom 1.1[7] but that would lead to untold confusion - had to make do with a loincloth fashioned from aforementioned winter scarf.
The PO-Box lay on the desk adjacent to the spiky soles of the policeman’s shiny black boots. Atom felt a twinge of nostalgia for the once shiny shoes that he had once owned. He slipped the PO-Box into one of the coat’s voluminous pockets. No.3 (who had never owned anything) appeared to take Atom’s actions as license and began to unlace the policeman’s boots.
“You’re gonna get us into trouble” said Atom in the smallest voice.
The policeman snorted and knuckled his nose wetly, returning the silver whistle guiltily to the corner of his mouth.
“We’re already in trouble,” said No.3 carefully removing the policeman’s boots and donning them himself.
Atom eyed the baton, worrying the painful lump on his head with his fingertips, but could not bring himself to liberate it from the policeman’s superior grasp. He looked at No.3, a bony bearded apparition in woolen loincloth and large black boots; “You’ll blend in nicely”
“Speak for yourself,” said No.3, “You look like a malnourished flasher.”
[7]Editor’s note: For any of reader who may be feeling a bit confused themselves by this statement, No.3 is none other than The Atom whose birth was described in Instalment 1.1. For those of you who had already figured that out, my apologies for bursting your sense of superiority.
5 comments:
i have to say, the image of the sleeping policeman with the baton "innocently" between his legs is sublime.
and the escape is as understated as so much of this tale....
the two boyos make for a wonderful visual.
looking forward to the next installment.
Harlequin: the innocence of public duty :)
Isn't it a bit chilly for loin cloths and boots? I'm glad he still has his PO box
phish.
i always appreciate the cliff notes
Baino: It's always too chilly for a loincloth :) but a man with a POBox is heading for the top.
Tom: Moosh, I appreciate your appreciation.
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