Standing smirking before the Desk Sergeant
with handcuffed and sprained wrists.

“For the umpteenth time: NAME?”

“Duncan…Duncan Disorderly!”

I receive a stinging blow from the left hand side,
my cheek bursts into flame, I smirk again loudly.

“We can do this all night, Tristram.
Now one more time: NAME?”

He sounds very angry,
like his voice is being cheese-grated through hatred
but his eyes dance with amusement and happiness.

I make him repeat the question 3 or 4 more times
before I smirk once more and answer accordingly.

Written by Paul Tristram


Available to buy via Lulu


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