Walking Home


(Stacey Bramhall [CC / Flickr])

It’s good to be walking home. Good to feel the crush of snow beneath my feet and the muscular burn of movement beneath a jacket that, I must admit, is a little thin for February.


It feels almost as good as when I headed to work this morning in this same tailored suit, behind the wheel of my Merc. I strolled in with a nod for every ‘good morning, sir’ that followed me through to my office. Nodding to your staff is one of the many skills I’d had to master to get the suit and the Merc. The trick is to acknowledge everyone without giving the impression that they mean anything to you. It’s not good to let them get too comfortable.

I sent my secretary out for coffee as I started my first meeting of the day, with the representative from the Qatari construction firm. That man must like his coffee because he kept talking risks and regulations with me until he’d emptied his cup. He practically balanced it on his nose to make sure he hadn’t left any.

Then he pulled a card out of his pocket. The mind plays tricks on you at moments like that. I couldn’t see his name or the photo, but the words ‘Fraud’ and ‘Squad’ screamed out of that little card at me as if they were in flashing red letters a metre high.

The day took a turn for the worse after that.

So they’ve seized the Merc and frozen my accounts. ‘Proceeds of crime’ was the phrase he used. Cheeky of him when I haven’t been convicted of anything. At least he didn’t take my suit which was worth his whole wardrobe by the look of him, from his cheap shiny suit to his mismatched socks.

My lawyer got me bail, which spared me a night in the cell. That’s why it’s so good to be walking home.

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle
2 comments on “Walking Home
  1. Ben says:

    Enjoyed this. I like the line – The day took a turn for the worse after that. Thanks for writing 🙂

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